Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2008. At that point Mattie had his second limb salvaging surgery. Which means that his right arm, left arm, left wrist, and right leg were all operated on! Specifically his arm bones, wrist, and leg bones were removed from his body and they were replaced with some type of prosthetic. Mobility was a major issue for Mattie and at that point Mattie's cancer journey became even more horrific. Being so disabled depressed Mattie, who was an active six year old. Needless to say Thanksgiving and Christmas of 2008 were absolute nightmares for us. Mattie was living through PTSD like symptoms and his level of depression was hard and heart breaking to manage. I have no doubt these memories will always impact my view of the holiday season for the rest of my life. What I love about this photo was Patches, our calico cat, came to join Mattie on his hospital bed, which was in our living room. We kept Patches for as long as we could at home while Mattie was battling cancer, but since we were rarely home, we made the decision to board Patches at her vet for over a year. Patches was a sickly cat and needed medication and constant care. Rest assured if Nurse Patches was home, she would be on the scene to provide moral support.
Quote of the day: When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us. ~ Helen Keller
I was invited to a fundraising jewelry party today for my friend Ilona. Ilona lost her only child to cancer in June of this year. We are on different points of the grief continuum, yet we understand each other and can appreciate our similarities and differences. A colleague of hers from work hosted a beautiful event today. The event had all sorts of home made foods and the jewelry was stunning. All sorts of pieces, with diverse materials. Not run of the mill jewelry and what I loved about the young designer is that she comes from a family of artists. Her parent's home reminds me of a residential art gallery. So that alone was a treat to be in such an artistic and stimulating setting. The jewelry designer is passionate about her work and spends a great deal of time, energy, and focus on designing pieces. She even works with copper and we learned today how she hammers it into shape and also fires and seals it so it doesn't oxidize. Needless to say I bought several pieces of her jewelry and she was kind to give 20% of all her proceeds to Ilona's foundation.
Since I have gotten to know Ilona, I have met several of her friends. All of whom are truly lovely women with different talents of their own. I remember what my own grief looked like at five months post Mattie's death, and this gives me some insight into how Ilona must be feeling and processing things around her now. Diversions are key and I am so happy such a party was planned for today. A day which was grey and gloomy.
Despite being with lovely people today and also the candy drive coming to an end, I felt a great deal of sadness come over me. Not to say that I don't feel sadness on any given day, I do. But it is typically contained. This evening while driving, which is when it usually hits me (because I am alone), I felt very depressed, very sad, and teary. When I get into these moods it is hard to see anything very good about the moment or in life in general. It is then that I reflect on those around me doing positive things with their children, being out and about, and I realize once again how different my life is. Trying to balance these feelings and emotions are difficult, along with trying to find a way to not completely shut out those around me.
At the end of the day, I would love to adopt a mind set change, to snap out of it, to be able to move on and have a positive outlook for the future. But I just don't foresee that as possible. I connected with a woman recently who is 10 years into the grieving process of her daughter. She basically told me I am being too hard on myself and that from her perceptive and that of her organization, I am still in the early stages of the grief process as it relates to losing a child. She told me she did not see a change within herself until year seven or eight. An interesting notion, but for now, I know how I feel and I know that throughout this loss process, there are cycles and waves that crash upon us. However, one can't always predict when they will happen and certainly as time marches on, fewer people are around to support parents through these difficult times.
