Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2005. In fact, this photo was featured on the cover of our Christmas 2005 card. I remember taking this photo as if it were yesterday! Today, Peter and I went to this restaurant in Maryland in which this photo was captured. Just seeing the outside of this restaurant brings me back to this time. Taking a Christmas photo of Mattie was always my mission in November. Peter and I have some funny stories over the years about how these photos were captured. When Mattie was a toddler we had to practically stand on our heads to get him to smile for a photo. However, by three years old (as you see in the photo), Mattie naturally smiled for the camera and understood my November antics in preparation for Christmas.
Quote of the day: Take a walk with a turtle. And behold the world in pause. ~ Bruce Feiler
Before visiting one of Mattie's favorite restaurants, we had the opportunity to attend a childhood cancer festival organized by one of the cancer foundations we have come to know and support. The founders of today's event are just like us, parents of an only child who lost his battle to cancer.
While at the event, we were introduced to another couple who lost their child to cancer. We spoke to them for quite some time, shared stories, and I realized just how different their grieving process has been from ours. It has been very different probably for two very specific reasons. The first reason is their son was diagnosed with cancer at age 5. But then he went into remission, until the cancer came back in his 20s. The mom mentioned that after her son survived his first battle and as he grew and aged no one believed that he ever suffered from cancer when he was a child. Mostly because over time his friends changed and friends only see the vibrant and strong teen and young adult in front of them. The second issue that I think strongly impacts their grieving process was the fact that as a military family they moved around a lot. So the network of people who knew them while their son was battling cancer was no longer geographically close to them. When they moved locations, they had to start over again, with a whole new group of people. Naturally the new group did not walk the journey with them and therefore couldn't possibly provide the same support.
As this mom was talking, her story truly made me pause. I frankly am not sure I could manage and cope if I left the Washington, DC area. I tried to put myself in her position, and the notion of having to explain to people that I did have a son, he battled cancer and died would be challenging. If I moved none of the new people I would meet would have known Mattie. Or even truly understood that he was an important part of our lives. This is a dynamic I never even thought about until I interacted with this couple today. Who supports you through grief if you leave your network behind? I really do not have an answer and unfortunately neither did this couple!
Certainly comparing grief stories is not always helpful. Because comparing can lead to competition. I have learned that lesson early on in our grieving process. So instead, I have come to just understand that we all grieve differently and therefore need different things to cope through life. Yet when I did hear today's story, it is hard for me not to step back and place myself into their shoes. All I know is if I moved like they did, I would not only have a community of people who knew and loved Mattie around me, but this would also change the dynamic of the work I could do for the Foundation. It has taken us time to build community support for the Foundation, and of course at the core we have support from those who knew Mattie and us as a family. Starting from scratch somewhere else doesn't only sound daunting, it sounds impossible.
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