Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2008. Mattie had his first limb salvaging surgery and this was the first day out of his hospital room to visit the child life playroom. As you can see, we did not travel alone. Surrounding Mattie were Whitney and Lesley (child life interns, or as my mom called them "the dynamic duo"), Jenny (Mattie's art therapist), and Linda (Mattie's child life specialist). They were all encouraging Mattie to use his lungs, which is crucial after a surgery and lying in bed for days. Mattie wasn't interested in breathing exercises, but he was willing to blow bubbles. So that day the room was filled with bubbles, and it only got zanier once the huge bubble machine came out and was added to the mix. It literally looked like we were surrounded in bubbles. The floor was soaked and the whole room was a sight to see!!!
Quote of the day: A life of short duration...could be so rich in joy and love that it could contain more meaning than a life lasting eighty years. ~ Viktor E. Frankl
This morning I woke up before my alarm went off. It wasn't a natural awakening however, I was instead startled awake from a dream. I rarely dream of Mattie, but I vividly recall today's dream in which Peter and I took Mattie to a restaurant. Mattie had to be six or seven years old in the dream and very healthy. What caught my attention was Mattie's voice and his ability to get the attention of the maître D'. It was noteworthy in fact because I vividly recall Mattie taking the maître D' around his own restaurant and pointing out interesting observations to him. The rest of the dream wasn't as clear as the restaurant scene, but I know it did continue once we left the restaurant. Any case, I woke up in this fashion this morning, on a day that the Catholic religion denotes as All Saints Day. Seemed rather symbolic to me.
I am not sure why I was in a funk today, but I was. I went for a walk, and that did not seem to help. Sometimes I can walk around and feel so tired, as if each of my legs weigh 100 pounds. When I got home I wasn't feeling any better. I sat down by my computer and I happened to see a newsletter that came in the mail for me yesterday. The newsletter is published by an organization called Alive Alone. An organization that supports families who are childless due to an accident or disease. I am not always wowed by articles or even find them helpful, but as I was glancing through the newsletter, I came across an article entitled, Do you fit in?! The title alone intrigued me. So I read it. Trish's words were so meaningful to me on a day like today that I emailed her. Another thing I rarely do. But I wanted this mom, who lost her daughter 10 years ago to know that her words mattered and made a difference in my day.
Why did her words matter? They mattered because I related to what she was talking about, a daily sense of grief that can be set off at any time!!!! So well stated and yet so frighteningly true!!!! She doesn't know me and I don't know her! Yet we feel the same way!!! Like Trish, I would like to have sadness free days, but unfortunately with the loss of an only child, it is a pervasive issue that weaves into every dynamic and pattern of our lives. Doors close for us after our children die and we are faced with missed opportunities, altered futures, and such losses follow us. Every day! They don't go away after the first year, the second year, the third year, etc. After all how can they, when we live in a world surrounded by people who have healthy children who remind us of what we are missing. They tell us about their children, their growing families, family vacations, and the list goes on and on. The one thing losing an only child produces is the realization that YOU ARE DIFFERENT AND YOU DON'T FIT IN! Naturally I could say this to everyone in my life, I can report it out as I do, and yet many people discount it as Vicki having a problem and being stuck and unable to move on. Reading articles like Trish's confirms for me the reality. The reality is we are different and we are being put to the test of figuring out how to navigate life without our children. The problem doesn't stem from me, instead it was a problem that emanated from the death of Mattie and I honestly wish people could get this. It is very exhausting having to constantly be on the defensive with some people as to why my feelings are justified! I have copied Trish's article below and for those families who read this blog and have lost a child, I hope her words resonate with you too. For those of you lucky enough to have healthy children, I hope reading Trish's article gives you another point of view to consider.
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Do you fit in? by Trish Myers
I am feeling like I need a good cry today. Why? I'm not sure. There could be a half dozen reasons. Do we even need one? My LOSS of darling Allyson, age 23, was a decade ago, and the tears are not as frequent as they were. If you are in the first years of the loss of your child(ren), it is common for tears to come daily as the waves of grief flow over your tiny island of "security."
Years after our greatest LOSS, the losses continue. They come in many forms. Loss of health, physical strength, income, friends, relatives, youthful vitality, career, and connections to the daily lives of the living children who used to ground us in our day-to-day routines. I once wrote about "Compounded Grief" in an issue some years back. While the loss of a child remains the high water mark of LOSS in our lives, it does not mean that coping with life's issues is any less daunting. In fact, BECAUSE we don't have our kids, LIFE can be acutely harsh at times.
This past weekend, I saw a parent I had not seen in years. (I have learned to be polite in the face of my own fear of answers to my socially appropriate questions). I asked about her "family." She summed up the whole big open question with just ONE very painful word, "BIG!" She further explained that she now has six grand kids, and that number from ONLY two of her three married children. Yikes!!! I wanted to run for the hills. No wonder I feel like crying today.
Honestly, that "normal" social interaction is NOT the reason for my need to cry. It is more about the daily sense of loss that is "hidden" from view but seems to plod along after me as I cope with the stages and transitions of my own life. WHERE are you in life's journey? Do you feel like joining me in a good healthy cry?
I sense that most of us are feeling that we are not "fitting in." I'm not sure it is "simply" the loss of our dear sweet souls. It IS all the other "stuff" that can sometimes weigh down our hearts, our souls, and our Spirit. These are the real or imagined "closed doors" which slam shut after the death of our child(ren). These are the missed opportunities, the loss of legacy, the missing key for the lock, the lack of a compass, and the absolute draining of our LIFE FORCE of potent energy needed for the perilous journey ahead of us. I AM certain that our children would restore much of the structure of our hearts and our lives, and we would feel a certain "Fit."
Our kids are not with us on the hard ground of planet earth. They view our struggle from a much loftier perch, (my humble opinion). My lovely Allyson, with her beautiful brown skin from Colombian parents, her life as an artist, and her raging bipolar illness; she knew about not fitting. She taught me a WORLD of wisdom on the subject.
Our bodies are weak, and our Spirit is strong. Our kids already know that. My wish is that all of the children whom we have lost can enlighten those remaining behind about the way to LIGHT our journey. Maybe a few tears splashing on the hard earth ground will help us take root and to fit in.
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