Tonight's picture was taken in September of 2006. Mattie was never really far away from me when ever we were home. If I were cooking in the kitchen, chances are, like you see here, he was there too! Mattie was a builder by heart and he liked to create structures from just about any material. That day Mattie decided to bring his tinker toys into the kitchen. With Mattie life was never boring, it was instead always more colorful and lively!
Quote of the day: To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget. ~ Arundhati Roy
Last night as Peter and I were sitting on the couch, I began to talk with him about different issues as it related to our grief journey. I knew earlier in the day that Peter seemed to be in a funk, but I did not pursue it then, and frankly when in the moment of a funk, it isn't always the best time to be asking questions and trying to figure out the cause. It turns out Peter went to our local Whole Foods store yesterday morning. As he was checking out, the store clerk took an interest in our Mattie Miracle bright orange shopping bags that Peter brought with him to carry the groceries back home. In addition, Peter had a Mattie Miracle visor on. Any case, this woman wanted to know what Mattie Miracle was. She took an interest and she also wanted to know cancer stats, which Peter shared with her. While talking to the clerk, Peter was fine, but it was after his dialogue, while walking home, that his mood changed. I think he was perplexed by this reaction. This is the exact problem with grief, you just never know what is going to trigger a flare up. So therefore it is hard to prepare. My hunch is what set Peter off was not the woman or the dialogue BUT when the dialogue happened. Peter runs chores on weekend mornings as a diversion and coping mechanism. I believe weekends are the hardest for him, since weekend mornings Peter used to spend a great deal of time with Mattie. So now to compensate for the loss of a weekend buddy, Peter does chores. When his chores yesterday collided with talking about Mattie and cancer, I suspect that set Peter off. That may not sound reasonable or even understandable to an outsider. But to me, it makes perfect sense! Fortunately we can talk openly about these moments and funks and we usually can appreciate how the other is feeling, even if we do not always share the same triggers.
everywhere and if you look closely you will see many bee visitors.
The remaining part of our day, I spent in Mattie's room. This September 8th, marked Mattie's fourth anniversary that he has been gone from our lives. For the past several months, I have been giving a lot of thought to cleaning out Mattie's room. Peter and I discussed it and today I seemed ready to start sorting. Peter encouraged me to begin which helped and my lifetime friend Karen sent me periodic funny or supportive emails throughout the day. Funny what a little moral support can do for me when having to approach such a task. So I started.
It is a very personal decision if and when parents want to clean out their child's room after he/she dies. For those who never lost a child, it is easy to conclude that something is WRONG or unnatural about preserving the room of a dead child. I would encourage someone who feels that way, to bite their tongue and refrain from judgment. Parents are dealing with enough internal stress and strife over the room, and having another opinion in the mix is just not helpful. I know some parents who clean their child's room up immediately after a death, and I have also heard of stories in which a child's room isn't touched for twenty years after a death. Going through this with Mattie, I can appreciate either decision. Though for me, I could never have processed Mattie's room and things right after his death. I have needed these four years to come to terms with THINGS. As time progresses, I have learned that things are not as important. That I don't need every item to feel like Mattie is a part of my life. That wasn't true in the beginning. In the beginning I needed EVERYTHING!!! Touching anything back then would have been impossible. Certainly there are items that are still hard, emotionally laden, and represent our times together. Those items remain with us!
The first big item to get removed from Mattie's room today was "Doctor Crazy Hair." I had Peter snap a photo of this statue Mattie made in clinic. One day Mattie decided to create his version of a doctor. This doctor had a stethoscope made of pipe cleaners, a thermometer made out of model magic, and I have no idea why, but this doctor also carried around a patient's toe nail (made out of an oyster shell) in his pocket! Mattie was never boring and that particular admission to the hospital (after Dr. Crazy Hair was constructed), Doctor Crazy Hair found a home right outside of Mattie's PICU room, and literally the good "Doctor" served as a sentinel. 
Mattie had an extensive collection of hot wheel cars, trains, and plastic miniature animals. I decided to keep many of these items, because I will use them as decorations for Mattie's new tree! Instead of buying these items, I thought it would make sense to use actual toys which he played with and loved.
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