Tonight's picture was taken in July of 2003, on the beach of Duck, North Carolina. When I look at this picture, it actually makes me laugh. I laugh because, if this was a cartoon, the bubble over Mattie's head would read...... "I have my eye on the water, and you better not be thinking of putting me down in it!" Mattie was partly fascinated by the water, but for the most part he was simply frightened. Which in reality I was okay with. If you believe a child is born with common sense, Mattie was. He had an understanding for things that could harm and hurt him, and you only had to tell him once not to touch or go near something. In that respect Mattie was easy. I never had to childproof anything, nor did I have to protect him from corners and other sharp things he could fall into. I was hyper vigiliant anyway, but in all reality, his instinct for his surroundings was always spot on.
Quote of the day: I measure every grief I meet with narrow, probing eyes - I wonder if it weighs like mine - or has an easier size. ~ Emily Dickinson
Today I joined Ann and her mother, Mary, on an adventure. The adventure was taking Mary to get her hair cut and styled. Transferring Mary from her wheelchair to Ann's car takes incredible effort and fortunately for Mary, Ann is an occupational therapist by training. Otherwise, I am not sure the average person could safely take Mary on. My role in the transfer process is totally non-existent and frankly I am surprised Ann hasn't hit me over the head yet. Because at times the whole scene of getting her mom into the car is so complicated it makes me laugh. Mary is usually right along side me laughing, and I suppose humor helps us all get through times of stress. Despite it being cold out, I know Mary enjoyed her trip out, conversing with us, and of course returning back home with her hair done.
While out, we had lunch together. Our lunch gathering grew by the time lunch was done, because our friend, Tina (the friend who hosted my birthday party at her house this summer), her daughter, and Bob joined us. Mary was quiet and eating, but I know she took it all in. At lunch we talked about many topics. However, after lunch I found myself quite upset, and I honestly did not know why. At least not initially. I went back with Mary to her assisted living facility, and sat with her for a while. Mary took a cat nap, and while she was napping, I tried reading the book I brought with me. It is a fiction book called, Handle with Care, which is about a child born with a disease called Osteogensis Imperfecta and the impact of this disease on the entire family. What I found however, was I couldn't read the book. Not because of the book itself. I enjoy books by this particular author, but I couldn't focus since something was bothering me. So I sat there and wondered what exactly it was. One of the topics discussed at lunch was summer trips and summer camp. Somehow just the notion of this was overwhelming. This is NOT part of my life. Summer trips mean nothing to me, and summer camp, which are two innocuous words, now pack a powerful punch. The punch or sting of not having a child.
In the midst of this conversation, the travel location of Hawaii came up. As we were talking about the different islands, I reflected on my last trip to Hawaii. It was like I was sucked out of the current conversation, and was transported back in time. My mind went to March of 2008, when I was in Oahu attending a counseling conference. March of 2008 seemed like an exciting time in my life professionally. I had been elected the president of a very large professional counseling association, something that I never thought I would achieve early on in my career. My leadership role officially began on July 1, 2008. So I literally had 22 days in office before my world crashed around me, and Mattie was diagnosed with cancer. Somehow I look back at this trip to Hawaii and I realize I was such a different person back then. Naturally when Mattie developed cancer, he came first and though I had the title of president, during my year in office I wasn't empowered in this role. All my other officers had to step up and fill my role. This is something that will always bother me, something that will always upset, and yet something that I had to let go of because Mattie was my priority. I don't regret that decision, I just regret that I had to even be put in such a position. Cancer had great ramifications on our professional development, and for me it has changed my whole future outlook on what I want to do.
When I got home later tonight, I was emailing my lifetime friend, Karen, back and forth. I was telling her I had a hard day, and naturally she asked why. When I told her about my reflections on Hawaii in particular she encouraged me to "hold onto the memories of the event as good ones. That July was bad, but Hawaii was good. You should be proud of that, and cancer shouldn't take that from you too." I told her it was sage advice, which she knows I am not good at following. But I wrote it down here, so perhaps I will try to absorb it.
The ramifications of cancer and Mattie's death are huge. It clouds everything and anything Peter and I do. The worst part of it however, is the disease leaves you such a changed person, and truly altered that it becomes very challenging to want to re-engage with the world again. At times I find when I do re-engage, I get hurt, which only further hones one's natural instinct to retreat and protect one's self. In these times, I say to myself..... one day at a time, and try to reset for tomorrow.
In the midst of all of this today, Tina was telling us that she is taking a group of girl scouts to the musical Wicked, which is coming to Washington, DC in June. I really enjoy most musicals, though I admit I like some more than others. Tina invited me to go with her and her group in June, and I am looking forward to hearing the music again. I used many of the songs from Wicked in Mattie's memorial video that we created for his celebration of life ceremony. Some of the songs from Wicked are haunting, and I when Mattie died, I found that I listened to the CD of Wicked often. I imagine this is one of the reasons Peter doesn't want to see the play again, the music is very linked to Mattie's memory.
I leave you tonight with a comment from Mary (Ann's mom). As I left Mary this evening, she was staring into my eyes and she told me that I have stunning eyes. I thanked her for the lovely compliment, but what I wanted to say was I have Mattie's eyes. When you stare into my eyes, you are staring into his eyes as well.
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