Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Tuesday, January 11, 2011 -- Mattie died 70 weeks ago today.

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2003. Mattie was about a year and a half old, and this was his first Christmas in Los Angeles with my parents. We took Mattie to Travel Town in Griffith Park. This is an incredible outdoor train museum which focuses upon the history of railroad transportation in the western United States from 1880 to the 1930's. The irony is most children do not realize they are entering a museum, because it is outdoors, and they are able to jump on the trains, and run around in the train cars, and basically explore, touch, and experience these great structures. As you can see in this picture, Mattie was fascinated by the train tracks and was trying to walk on them with Peter's help. Neither one of them knew I was taking a picture of them, which is most likely why this picture seems like a snapshot in time. It isn't a posed picture, but illustrates the natural dynamics in our family. When Peter wasn't working, he played a very active role in Mattie's life, and this picture to me captures their connection and bond.

Quote of the day: Small things matter so much to me now - the sunsets, perfume of flowers, smiles on faces, laughter, etc. They are all things I took for granted before but now I see them differently.
~ Janine Chappell

How is it that Mattie died 70 weeks (or in other words a year and four months) ago today, and yet it seems like only yesterday?  I have no answers to my question, but there are times I think about Mattie's cancer battle and I can't believe he went through this and that Peter and I survived. However, then I take a step back and look at my state of affairs, and I realize that our terrible life tragedy explains many of the symptoms, feelings, and thoughts I have today.

As I am writing tonight's blog, I am looking out the window, and I am seeing snow fall. This snow was MUCH anticipated in our area. In fact, the forecasters started talking snow as of last week. The pending doom of the storm caused havoc today, as can only happen in Washington, DC with even an inch of snow. Before even a flake fell today, after school activities were cancelled, as well as all evening activities. I was scheduled to attend two meetings at Georgetown University Hospital tonight, and both meetings were cancelled. Of course, I appreciate that greatly, since I have NO idea how to drive in the snow. I learned to drive in Southern California, and when I returned East to go to college, I never had the opportunity to drive in the snow. So basically I complain about Washingtonians, but I realize I am NO better. Peter says he wants to teach me to drive in the snow this year, I guess you are never too old to learn!?  

However, snow reminds me of Mattie. He loved sledding and building in the snow! Mattie spent most Christmas' in Boston visiting Peter's family. I remember one trip in particular in which there was a great deal of snow on the ground. Mattie's cousins took him sledding at their school. Their school had a huge hill behind it and all the children in the neighborhood were sledding on it. Fast motion and activities involving risk are NOT high on my list. Therefore, I translated many of my fears down to Mattie. However, Mattie wanted to join his cousins in the fun, so against my better judgment, I allowed him to go down the hill. He rode on a sled with his cousins, so he did not go alone, and Peter was at the bottom of the hill and I was at the top. It turns out that Mattie LOVED it. The faster he went down, the more he liked it. At times, I just couldn't watch him because he was making me nervous. Now however, I reflect back on that day, the only real day that he went sledding (since we rarely got snow in DC), and I am happy Mattie had that experience and had so much fun. With parenting you are always walking a fine line, between trying to protect your children, and yet at the same time giving them some freedom to explore the world around them. 

I started my day off with a follow up doctor visit. I have been working with this doctor since the fall of 2009, right after Mattie's death. She is well aware of the stresses in my life and is helping me with my recurrent physical issue. Today she wanted to perform some sort of procedure on me, and she sent her nurse in to tell me. I basically said NO to the nurse, and I said NO to the doctor as well when she came into the exam room. I would have to say after Mattie's illness, and having experienced and interacted with hundreds of doctors, I have absolutely no problem saying no, and telling them that I am not doing something if I feel it isn't necessary. I am not a physician, but when it came to Mattie and myself, no one knows us better.

I spent part of the day with Ann, and the rest of the day reading a book. The title of the book is called, Safe Haven, and though it is fiction, it speaks volumes about the importance of a safe place in one's life after experiencing a trauma. I never really gave this much thought, but I realize I have my own safe haven during the day. Some of you who are daily blog readers most likely know where this place is, it has become Ann's house. In the spring and summer, my safe haven is most definitely her garden. I certainly did not select this place, it actually presented itself to me in September of 2009, when Peter and I moved into Ann's house for two weeks. We moved in to help Ann with her dad who was dying, but it was through connecting over two deaths (Mattie's and Ann's dad), that this house became an escape for me. I am not sure why I never realized this, but as I have been reflecting on the content of this book, it simply jumped out at me and made sense.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from Mattie's oncologist and our friend, Kristen. Kristen wrote, "I know this day is probably no easier than yesterday or the day before. But please know I am thinking of you and hoping you find a bright spot in tomorrow. Thinking of you this Tuesday and everyday."