Tuesday, August 20, 2013 -- Mattie died 205 weeks ago today.
Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2002. Mattie was four months old and full of energy. My joke was that Mattie was born 'ON.' He rarely napped and did not seem to need much sleep at night either. One of the things Mattie loved to do at that age was examine his stuffed animals that I kept for him in a basket. I say "examine," because Mattie did not actually like playing or cuddling with these creatures. He was more interested in feeling their texture or hearing the noises they would make. Some were stuffed with jingle bells inside and some would make a cute sound if he squeezed them. Either case, Mattie got a chuckle out this basket and I got a kick out of observing his reactions.
Quote of the day: Sure, friends and family have been supportive, but it’s proven to be the case with me that there is a mandate as for how long their unwavering support, patience, understanding, concern and empathy lasts. The truth is, the situation is so unbearably sad that it becomes incredibly emotionally draining on the other person. The realization that they can’t fix your sadness sets in, the frustration builds because not even they can see an end in sight, then gradually it starts to impede on the happiness in their life. They haven’t lost their child so why should they spend all their time sad about yours? ~ Samantha Hayward
My "friend in cancer" sent me a link to an article written by Samantha Hayward. Samantha is a mom of four children. However, her eldest daughter (19 days old) died unexpectedly FOUR years ago. I emphasize FOUR years ago and yet even today this loss continues to send Samantha into a tail spin. I actually think that Samantha's article is a very courageous, passionate, and honest account of what it is like to lose a child. Her child did not die from cancer, yet the similarities in the aftermath for both of us (and probably for all parents who lose a child --- whether they want to admit or not) are quite uncanny and similar.
Before I continue writing, I did want my readers to know that I included a link to the article below. As any writer knows, and frankly I consider myself a writer by now. After all, I have been writing since July of 2008. Our readership continues to be in the hundreds daily, so though you are not buying my words, something inspires you to come back and keep reading. Of which I am grateful. So Mattie has made me a writer. Back to my point, as any writer knows, we get critiqued. Every now and then someone lets us know we either upset them, offended them, or made them think and laugh. A whole range of feedback. I have found at times when I am more upfront about what pains me, I land up hurting someone's feelings. Which is why I may have an internal blog inside my head, one that doesn't get posted. But one that would make excellent content for a book. Some of the things Peter and I have experienced regarding interacting with others, post-Mattie's death, are noteworthy both positively and negatively.
If you look at Samantha's article you will notice at the bottom of the article, people left her comments. Many of the comments are supportive and empathetic, but one in particular is NOT. In fact this one person wrote to Samantha and said that her writing is "aggressive and dismissive." I wish I could say I was surprised by this reaction, but I am not. Sometimes when we write about our true emotions and the disappointments we have particularly with people who we perceive are no longer there for us emotionally it sets off a chain reaction of negativity and defensiveness. As Samantha indicates the best way to heal and cope with the loss of a child is to be able to talk about it and about one's memories and feelings. Not just once but over a lifetime. It becomes equally depressing when those closest to us, who we think will be on this journey with us forever, chose not to be over time. These are the people who grieving parents are most likely to turn to and trust, but that can't happen when these individuals feel like their tour of duty is up and over. So who does a grieving parent talk to when those closest to them have had enough??!!!
Samantha's article resonated with me on so many levels. I think she had the courage to write about several things which I just can't touch upon in this blog. As tonight's quote points out, Samantha talks about a "mandate" of time. Meaning that she observed in her journey that after a set period of time, people started pulling away and their unwavering support began to die off. Naturally this happens for many, many reasons. People's lives are busy, other crises may arise, and frankly as Samantha points out the simple fact is mothers of deceased children and mothers of living children are DIFFERENT. We can impede the "happiness" of others and others also feel helpless because they realize they can't change the facts or the future for us. Therefore, when helplessness sets in, pulling away naturally occurs. Unfortunately this pulling away is devastating for grieving parents. More devastating than Samantha elaborates on or which I care to go into detail on Mattie's blog.
Samantha details in her article the top ten points to remember or reflect upon when interacting with a parent who lost a child. I am not covering all ten, but I have to say a few are mentionable. The first point is KEY! The first one has to do with time. We have a real misnomer in our society. We think after a year of grieving life goes back to normal!!! Newsflash... IT DOESN'T! I am not sure what Samantha's mandated time was, but mine was a year. After a year, things changed in terms of the support we received from others. For them, this probably did not seem like a big deal to end the support. Whereas to me, it seemed like the end of the world. I guess my advice if you are helping someone who is grieving is to discuss the support you are giving them and discuss what happens after the one year mark. Not having this conversation can be harmful because it leaves the griever more confused, feeling isolated, and just unsure about what the future holds. Having an honest conversation, though hard, will spare the griever in the long term. The last thing you want the parent to experience is MORE grief from the loss of your support!
Samantha's next two points center on the fact that others want us to be happy and to return to the person we once were. Others most definitely want this for us, and certainly no one wants this more for ourselves than we do. Do you think we enjoy living with this pain, sadness, and anger inside of us? When we aren't happy and we do not return to our "old" selves, it usually leads people in our lives to tell us to seek counseling! I recall early on, I took in a lot of feedback from others, people who thought the only way to survive Mattie's death was through counseling. Being a counselor, I am well aware of the benefits to therapy, but I also know its limitations and given my circumstances I did not feel talking to someone who didn't know Mattie or his battle was going to be helpful to me. But others kept doubting my feelings, so one day I went to visit Mattie's social worker at the hospital. She listened to my concerns and then stopped me. She said, "Vicki who would you be going to counseling for, yourself or for other people?" It was a great question and spot on. I valued her feedback because she could tell given her experience as a grief counselor that I wasn't dangerous or diagnosable, I was grieving. Grieving, which is a process that Samantha in her own way points out lasts a lifetime. Or as she states it, she won't stop thinking about her daughter until she dies and lands up with her.
Samantha's fourth point is about milestones like birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays. I think everyone knows that the FIRST of anything is always harder for a grieving parent. But what is also confusing and hurtful to a grieving parent is the lack of consistency. We live with uncertainty, we saw Mattie battle a horrible disease, we saw that despite our best efforts nothing could save him, and now we live day to day wondering about the future. A future in which we aren't parents, a future where we can't relate to the highs and lows, ups and downs of having a preteen (the age Mattie would be today). When support is offered to us from friends and family, I hate to say it, but to many of us grievers, we believe this support will be long lasting. Maybe we cling to that because we are left raw from the loss we have survived. This support makes us feel alive and part of the world. So when the first birthday, anniversary or milestone is acknowledged but not subsequent ones, we are left confused. We are left to think that the child who died doesn't matter and perhaps neither do we.
I imagine right about now, some of my readers are saying WOW! Yes wow is right, Samantha evoked certain emotions, none of which are new or novel to me, just some of which I do not care to elaborate on here. But as Samantha appropriately acknowledges there are very FEW resources for bereaved parents, very few which speak open and honestly. I believe there is a reason for this. I could write on several of the topics Samantha highlighted for days, but I will spare you further commentary. I am happy she wrote the article and even happier she broke the barrier about some topics. I encourage you to check out Samantha's words and insights:
How to talk to a parent who has lost a child. From someone who's been there. Click on the Link:
http://www.mamamia.com.au/parenting/ten-points-i-wish-every-person-knew-about-the-death-of-a-child/
I end tonight's posting with a photo of a little Train that takes visitors around the city of Toledo, Spain. Karen tells me Toledo is very hilly and to transport tourists around, this cutie is used. Mattie would have loved seeing and riding on this train, which is most likely why Karen sent me the photo! As today marks the 205th week Mattie has been gone from our lives, a red train seems appropriate.
Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2002. Mattie was four months old and full of energy. My joke was that Mattie was born 'ON.' He rarely napped and did not seem to need much sleep at night either. One of the things Mattie loved to do at that age was examine his stuffed animals that I kept for him in a basket. I say "examine," because Mattie did not actually like playing or cuddling with these creatures. He was more interested in feeling their texture or hearing the noises they would make. Some were stuffed with jingle bells inside and some would make a cute sound if he squeezed them. Either case, Mattie got a chuckle out this basket and I got a kick out of observing his reactions.
Quote of the day: Sure, friends and family have been supportive, but it’s proven to be the case with me that there is a mandate as for how long their unwavering support, patience, understanding, concern and empathy lasts. The truth is, the situation is so unbearably sad that it becomes incredibly emotionally draining on the other person. The realization that they can’t fix your sadness sets in, the frustration builds because not even they can see an end in sight, then gradually it starts to impede on the happiness in their life. They haven’t lost their child so why should they spend all their time sad about yours? ~ Samantha Hayward
My "friend in cancer" sent me a link to an article written by Samantha Hayward. Samantha is a mom of four children. However, her eldest daughter (19 days old) died unexpectedly FOUR years ago. I emphasize FOUR years ago and yet even today this loss continues to send Samantha into a tail spin. I actually think that Samantha's article is a very courageous, passionate, and honest account of what it is like to lose a child. Her child did not die from cancer, yet the similarities in the aftermath for both of us (and probably for all parents who lose a child --- whether they want to admit or not) are quite uncanny and similar.
Before I continue writing, I did want my readers to know that I included a link to the article below. As any writer knows, and frankly I consider myself a writer by now. After all, I have been writing since July of 2008. Our readership continues to be in the hundreds daily, so though you are not buying my words, something inspires you to come back and keep reading. Of which I am grateful. So Mattie has made me a writer. Back to my point, as any writer knows, we get critiqued. Every now and then someone lets us know we either upset them, offended them, or made them think and laugh. A whole range of feedback. I have found at times when I am more upfront about what pains me, I land up hurting someone's feelings. Which is why I may have an internal blog inside my head, one that doesn't get posted. But one that would make excellent content for a book. Some of the things Peter and I have experienced regarding interacting with others, post-Mattie's death, are noteworthy both positively and negatively.
If you look at Samantha's article you will notice at the bottom of the article, people left her comments. Many of the comments are supportive and empathetic, but one in particular is NOT. In fact this one person wrote to Samantha and said that her writing is "aggressive and dismissive." I wish I could say I was surprised by this reaction, but I am not. Sometimes when we write about our true emotions and the disappointments we have particularly with people who we perceive are no longer there for us emotionally it sets off a chain reaction of negativity and defensiveness. As Samantha indicates the best way to heal and cope with the loss of a child is to be able to talk about it and about one's memories and feelings. Not just once but over a lifetime. It becomes equally depressing when those closest to us, who we think will be on this journey with us forever, chose not to be over time. These are the people who grieving parents are most likely to turn to and trust, but that can't happen when these individuals feel like their tour of duty is up and over. So who does a grieving parent talk to when those closest to them have had enough??!!!
Samantha's article resonated with me on so many levels. I think she had the courage to write about several things which I just can't touch upon in this blog. As tonight's quote points out, Samantha talks about a "mandate" of time. Meaning that she observed in her journey that after a set period of time, people started pulling away and their unwavering support began to die off. Naturally this happens for many, many reasons. People's lives are busy, other crises may arise, and frankly as Samantha points out the simple fact is mothers of deceased children and mothers of living children are DIFFERENT. We can impede the "happiness" of others and others also feel helpless because they realize they can't change the facts or the future for us. Therefore, when helplessness sets in, pulling away naturally occurs. Unfortunately this pulling away is devastating for grieving parents. More devastating than Samantha elaborates on or which I care to go into detail on Mattie's blog.
Samantha details in her article the top ten points to remember or reflect upon when interacting with a parent who lost a child. I am not covering all ten, but I have to say a few are mentionable. The first point is KEY! The first one has to do with time. We have a real misnomer in our society. We think after a year of grieving life goes back to normal!!! Newsflash... IT DOESN'T! I am not sure what Samantha's mandated time was, but mine was a year. After a year, things changed in terms of the support we received from others. For them, this probably did not seem like a big deal to end the support. Whereas to me, it seemed like the end of the world. I guess my advice if you are helping someone who is grieving is to discuss the support you are giving them and discuss what happens after the one year mark. Not having this conversation can be harmful because it leaves the griever more confused, feeling isolated, and just unsure about what the future holds. Having an honest conversation, though hard, will spare the griever in the long term. The last thing you want the parent to experience is MORE grief from the loss of your support!
Samantha's next two points center on the fact that others want us to be happy and to return to the person we once were. Others most definitely want this for us, and certainly no one wants this more for ourselves than we do. Do you think we enjoy living with this pain, sadness, and anger inside of us? When we aren't happy and we do not return to our "old" selves, it usually leads people in our lives to tell us to seek counseling! I recall early on, I took in a lot of feedback from others, people who thought the only way to survive Mattie's death was through counseling. Being a counselor, I am well aware of the benefits to therapy, but I also know its limitations and given my circumstances I did not feel talking to someone who didn't know Mattie or his battle was going to be helpful to me. But others kept doubting my feelings, so one day I went to visit Mattie's social worker at the hospital. She listened to my concerns and then stopped me. She said, "Vicki who would you be going to counseling for, yourself or for other people?" It was a great question and spot on. I valued her feedback because she could tell given her experience as a grief counselor that I wasn't dangerous or diagnosable, I was grieving. Grieving, which is a process that Samantha in her own way points out lasts a lifetime. Or as she states it, she won't stop thinking about her daughter until she dies and lands up with her.
Samantha's fourth point is about milestones like birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays. I think everyone knows that the FIRST of anything is always harder for a grieving parent. But what is also confusing and hurtful to a grieving parent is the lack of consistency. We live with uncertainty, we saw Mattie battle a horrible disease, we saw that despite our best efforts nothing could save him, and now we live day to day wondering about the future. A future in which we aren't parents, a future where we can't relate to the highs and lows, ups and downs of having a preteen (the age Mattie would be today). When support is offered to us from friends and family, I hate to say it, but to many of us grievers, we believe this support will be long lasting. Maybe we cling to that because we are left raw from the loss we have survived. This support makes us feel alive and part of the world. So when the first birthday, anniversary or milestone is acknowledged but not subsequent ones, we are left confused. We are left to think that the child who died doesn't matter and perhaps neither do we.
I imagine right about now, some of my readers are saying WOW! Yes wow is right, Samantha evoked certain emotions, none of which are new or novel to me, just some of which I do not care to elaborate on here. But as Samantha appropriately acknowledges there are very FEW resources for bereaved parents, very few which speak open and honestly. I believe there is a reason for this. I could write on several of the topics Samantha highlighted for days, but I will spare you further commentary. I am happy she wrote the article and even happier she broke the barrier about some topics. I encourage you to check out Samantha's words and insights:
How to talk to a parent who has lost a child. From someone who's been there. Click on the Link:
http://www.mamamia.com.au/parenting/ten-points-i-wish-every-person-knew-about-the-death-of-a-child/
I end tonight's posting with a photo of a little Train that takes visitors around the city of Toledo, Spain. Karen tells me Toledo is very hilly and to transport tourists around, this cutie is used. Mattie would have loved seeing and riding on this train, which is most likely why Karen sent me the photo! As today marks the 205th week Mattie has been gone from our lives, a red train seems appropriate.
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