Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2007. We took Mattie to a Fall Festival, and this wooden pumpkin person caught Mattie's attention. It is interesting to me how Mattie gravitated to bright colors like orange and red. Colors which naturally were selected to symbolize his Foundation.
Quote of the day: I feel the capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest significance. ~ Pablo Casals
Peter has been struggling with a sinus infection all week, and today, I feel like I am losing the battle. So we are both wiped out, with congested heads, and with not a lot of energy to do much. In fact, I woke up this morning, made breakfast, and then went right back into bed. However, by lunch time, thanks to Sudafed, I was able to get up and out. To somewhat function. We decided to take a walk on Roosevelt Island, since we are bracing for a ton of rain and wind for the next couple of days.
When we got to Roosevelt Island we were greeted by a park ranger who informed us that today was Roosevelt's birthday. Therefore the Island was decorated and celebrating the occasion. As you can see flags lined the bridge onto the Island. The flags were wonderful, we got to see the US Flag with 33 stars on it and one with 25 stars on it, obviously before our flag reflected all of our 50 states. There were also military flags, a commander and chief flag, and a US parks flag. Roosevelt was a renowned ornithologist, an expert on and hunter of big-game animals, but also a pioneering American conservationist. He was a country squire, horseman, socialite and patron of the arts. His love of birds and nature are beautifully captured on this little piece of city paradise. A piece of paradise Mattie always loved visiting!
The beauty of Roosevelt Island during the Fall!
I entitle this picture.... "Who's watching who?!" Peter made a noise to capture the Cardinal's attention, and as you can see, this bird was staring at us, as we were staring at him.
Toward the end of our walk, we always pass this huge tree. Peter has a favorite pine he loves on the Island and he typically photographs this tree's changes with the seasons. For some reason this tree always captures my attention. Maybe because near it we spotted wild turkeys with Mattie, or near it we saw woodpeckers, or perhaps this tree's size and shape just commands my attention.
After our Roosevelt Island excursion, we went out to lunch together. The goal of lunch was to brainstorm the content for an hour long palliative care presentation we are giving at an upcoming conference on November 16, at the Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Peter and I have typically served on palliative care panels, but for this particular conference we have been selected to be the only parent speakers. Peter did not know what hit him today at lunch, mainly because ideas and stories about Mattie and our experiences were flowing right out of my mouth. Mattie and the Foundation are my job, and just like anyone who works full time, one's job tasks and responsibilities become second nature to them. Citing examples about Mattie's health care, lessons to be learned, and advocating for the treatment of both the psychological and physical concerns of a pediatric patient are all topics fresh in my head, and very real in my heart and mind. As I was recalling some of our stories and experiences with Peter, he landed up crying. Which I totally understand, because reliving our story and our experiences are painful. It takes courage, strength, and love to get up on a stage and do this. Because at the end of the conference people go home and on their merry way, whereas for us, we have opened up old wounds and are left to contend with the consequences. It is of course our hope that in sharing our story and insights that this effects how health care providers interact and treat future patients. This is our number one motivator, along with keeping Mattie's memory alive. Something must be learned from Mattie's battle and death, so we push ourselves to do what I would deem emotionally challenging.