Friday, March 23, 2012Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2003. Mattie was 11 months old and took his first plane trip to Los Angeles to visit my parents. That day we took Mattie to Huntington Gardens and I snapped a picture of Peter and Mattie, without them knowing it. Both of them were staring at different things, and I love how Mattie was intrigued by the bamboo and therefore reached out to touch it! Mattie was our little scientist and engineer, and was always fascinated by objects, how they worked, went together, and functioned. To me, Mattie was reaching out to analyze this bamboo and to make his own determinations.
Quote of the day: I've learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances. ~ Martha Washington
My dad sent me tonight's quote, and I must admit I am not quite sure I totally agree with our Country's first lady. I certainly think that our attitudes and outlooks impact and directly affect our happiness, but I have also learned that some circumstances (which are out of our control) are hard to face, process, and accept. It would be very easy to hate the world, those around me, and want to check out on life. Yet I have not and don't. Maybe that is because of what Mrs. Washington refers to as one's disposition.
I have always been disposed to trying to please and make other people happy, in fact in grade school, those who knew me probably are not surprised that I became a mental health professional. While growing up, kids sought me out to talk about all kinds of things. Whether I knew it or not, I have been listening to people's problems, concerns, fears, and feelings all my life. So now that I have what I perceive as a life long crisis of my own, I find I revert back to my old ways of coping. Or my disposition. I may not be able to help myself, but I certainly can help others, and in so doing, it is therapeutic. Or at least it makes me feel needed and necessary. After losing Mattie, I find that I constantly struggle with my own identity and my need to nurture someone. After all I did this for seven years quite intensely. It is hard to go from that to nothing.
For the next week or so, I will be spending most evenings with Ann's mom, Mary. Tonight I went to Mary's care facility and I found her with her eyes wide open and waiting for a visitor. She was happy to see me and I brought her lotions and other goodies to perk up her room. Though Mary for the most part is almost completely mute, I have no trouble talking (one way) about various things with her. In our down times, I also read to her from the book I keep in her nightstand. It is my hope that this week, we can actually finish this short story. Mary is intrigued by the story because the main character shares her name. While I was reading to Mary, her roommate, was also paying attention. So in a way this is great stimulation for both of them. When their health aide walked in to check on them, the aide wanted to know if I was related to Mary because she was fascinated by my willingness to read and chat with both patients who suffer from various forms of dementia. I explained to the aide that I was only a friend, and that made her even more perplexed by my actions.
I believe that visiting Mary this week, ties in to what I was trying to express above. Mary is helpless and needs a caregiver, and I am a person who at times is directionless and needs someone to care for. So we are a perfect pair for each other. A pair of moms who both lost a son to cancer, and like my friend Toni (Brandon's mom) says all the time, cancer has a way of uniting and establishing friendships. This is most definitely true in the case of Mary.
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