Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2003. I had bought this gadget to encourage Mattie to learn to walk. The ironic part was Mattie NEVER used it to walk, he converted the toy into something he could ride on, and would zip around the first floor of our home. This gadget made all sorts of sounds and noises when you threw a ball into the hoop in the front of it. The more noise it made the more Mattie loved it. Fortunately for me, toy noises never bothered me in the least, and if something engaged Mattie and made him happy, it usually had the same impact on me.
Quote of the day: Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime and falling in at night. ~ Edna St Vincent Millay
Today was an extremely busy day. I drove to Georgetown University Hospital and instead of parking on campus, I parked several blocks away in the surrounding neighborhood. It forced me to walk and to be outside. Today was another glorious weather day in Washington, DC, and getting fresh air and seeing people walking about seemed like the start of spring to me.
Walking back on the Hospital campus is always challenging for me. It is like returning to the scene of a crime. A crime that went very badly. I can't help but be affected by certain sights I observe at the hospital. These sights I think will always greatly affect me, such as children in wheelchairs who are very sick and adults with worried and stressed out faces in tow. These sights will always remind me of cancer and the terrifying part of being in a hospital.
However, I had the opportunity to have lunch today with Anita, who is the nurse manager for the HEM/ONC pediatric unit at the Hospital. Anita was one of Mattie's nurses and we had a delightful lunch today and brainstormed ways for Mattie's nurses to participate in this year's Foundation Walk. After lunch, I walked back with Anita to the fifth floor of the Hospital. A floor which Mattie, Peter, and I practically lived in from 2008 to 2009. One would imagine that returning to the fifth floor would be immensely hard, after all, this is where Mattie received all of his chemotherapy, where he recovered from surgeries, where he did his physical therapy, and where he died. Yet visiting the fifth floor is not daunting and it doesn't make me upset for the most part. Oddly enough it is like returning home, especially when I am greeted by Mattie's nurses. Who always make me feel special. I saw Tricia, Miki, Laura, Debbi, and Linda today! It was like a family reunion in a way, and Tricia and I even sat in the nurses lounge for a bit and looked at her family photo album.
I have a feeling if I did not become a mental health counselor, I could have perhaps been a nurse. Nurses are the foundation of any good hospital, they are the ones working at all hours of the day, and they are the ones invested in the CARE and connections with their patients. I feel very indebted to Mattie's nurses, because they were there for us medically, emotionally, and also advocated for our needs as a family beautifully. I loved seeing these ladies again today, and yet it is bittersweet to say this, because that means that on some level I have to accept that Mattie had cancer and it was through this cancer that I met these amazing and dedicated women. On one hand I wish I never knew about pediatric cancer and Mattie was still with me, and on the other hand, through Mattie's intense suffering he showed me that there are such caring, giving, and compassionate people around me.
After my visit to the hospital, I then drove to Mattie's school in Alexandria, VA. I spent three hours at school meeting with Donna and Leslie. Both of whom are kindergarten teachers. Leslie was actually Mattie's teacher, and as a fellow graduate of the George Washington University, we always had a lot to talk about. Mattie was very familiar with Donna too, since Donna and Leslie's classes collaborated together on activities.
We sat together, had hot tea, and we chatted about all sorts of things. I reflected on the three class visits I made to Leslie's classroom when Mattie was in kindergarten. I went once to read a story entitled the Gingerbread Baby and then had the children decorate home made gingerbread men. The second visit, I shared a story with the children about one of my childhood adventures. I brought in a poster presentation, a craft project for them regarding my adventure, and also gave them homemade biscotti (since my adventure was about a trip to Italy). Our third and final visit to the classroom, was to cut open a coconut. Peter's parents sent Mattie a coconut from Florida that year with its husk on it. Peter literally used an electric saw to remove the husk and the class was in AWE. They got to see the coconut being dissected, they got to taste the water inside, taste the coconut meat, as well as sample coconut cookies which I baked. These three classroom adventures were fun and VERY memorable for me.
Planning lessons and teaching others has always been a passion of mine. I remember when I was a little girl, I would stand on a chair with a ruler and pretend to instruct a classroom in our kitchen. The only one who found me fascinating back then as an instructor was my collie, Heidi. Nonetheless, I had a great role model. My mom was a New York City mathematics teacher for many years. As a little girl, when I went with her to school, I could see how much my mom was loved and admired by her students. Her students graduated and went on to achieve wonderful things, but always kept in touch with her. Somehow this made an impression on me, but I also experienced my mom's teaching first hand. Unlike her, I was terrible in math. She would spend hours tutoring me after school. I would get frustrated, not get the concepts, and yet she never gave up. She was a brilliant teacher because she ALWAYS found a way to explain a concept to someone in just the right way so that it made sense to him/her.
In order to prepare for my conversation with Donna today, I put together a powerpoint presentation of slides on Matisse and Picasso. In addition, I presented the my ideas for three hands on activities to help solidify the content for the children. Donna truly loved many of the ideas I presented and we brainstormed all sorts of things together to make this three part series meaningful. I will be visiting the classroom starting on March 30, and will return on April 6 and 13. Though these presentations involve art, from my perspective this is NOT only about the art. It is a series to help children be able to explore feelings, emotions, verbalize thoughts, and think creatively. I was very touched by Donna's compliment, because she told me she could tell I was an educator and a mental health professional. Donna is giving me a chance to re-enter a classroom again, to interact with little ones, and to enjoy that interaction. A part of me has no idea what to expect, and I have no idea how the children will react to the art and the activities I will present. Needless to say, whatever I do, there will be a food component associated with it because I would like the children to have a snack that ties into the topic we cover during that day!
Donna then shared with me the picture of the hydrangeas. Being a fan of flowers this also spoke to me, and the pinks seemed so real, so vibrant, and again it captured a very peaceful moment in time. This particular painting was signed. I took note of that since I expressed to Donna my desire to have the students sign their names to all their art work they create with me. I think it is important for students to learn to take pride in their creativity and that means taking ownership of it.
What stunned me was Donna gave me the choice to take one of these paintings home with me. Having lost someone dear to me, I know how difficult it is to part with an object created by that person. So it meant a great deal to me that Donna bestowed such a personal and meaningful gift upon me. However, it gets better. I couldn't decide which painting to select, so Donna gave me both paintings. I am honored and humbled, and being a sentimentalist, I feel that Donna's mother's memory was shared with me today and in a way I am honored to be a keeper (in a small way) of that memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment