Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2007. This was one of two jars that we used for Mattie's tent moth caterpillars. Each spring for about three years, Mattie would come home with caterpillars. He would bring them home from his schools in Alexandria, VA. He would have to do this since we have NO tent moth caterpillars near us in Washington, DC. Mattie loved caterpillars and he particularly loved watching them transform into moths! I remember the first year we took on this project, I had no idea what to put these caterpillars in or even what to feed them. We went from tree to tree in our complex finding leaves they would eat. Turns out they are finicky and won't eat just anything! They only want oak leaves and thankfully we have one oak tree close by to us! You also wouldn't think caterpillars could be messy, but YES, their jar needed changing and cleaning and I always had that fun job! It was a project Mattie always looked forward to, and as you can see in this photo, Mattie was proud that his caterpillar ate enough and spun into a cocoon! A week later a moth emerged and literally we had a moth releasing ceremony on our deck! We released many moths on our deck over the years!
Quote of the day: In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock. ~ Thomas Jefferson
About a month of so ago, I received an email from Kristen, a social worker. Peter and I met Kristen several years ago when we were invited to present on a palliative care parent panel at a conference. Kristen was the co-moderator of this panel. Since that conference we have remained in contact with Kristen. Kristen is a very in-tuned, perceptive, and compassionate mental health professional and recently she contacted me because she was going to be giving a talk about some of the challenges that stand before parents who have an ONLY child diagnosed with cancer and then lose that child to cancer. Interestingly enough Kristen reads this blog and from the blog she has sensed from my perspective that there is a difference in the grieving process for parents who lose an only child. I deeply believe this and though there isn't research out there to confirm my feelings and thoughts, that doesn't mean what I feel and think isn't valid and true! Which is why I felt very honored that Kristen would contact me, ask me for feedback, and listen to what I have to say. What it did tell me is that my feelings and words were getting through in the blog, which ultimately makes me happy. Sure I write for myself, but my words have to serve a purpose. When I find that the blog resonates with someone, gets someone to think differently, or even makes someone feel understood, then these are all great gifts.
I did respond to Kristen's email just last week with some of my thoughts about the challenges of losing an only child. I see these differences within myself that I do not necessarily see in others (others who may have lost a child to cancer but have surviving children). Yes they are grieving for sure over the child they lost, their lives have been tragically altered, but it is different is all I can say. I do not want to disrespect these individuals in any way or speak for their grief. I can only speak for myself. I can only speak for the fact that I have no more Mother's Days. There are no milestones of any kind now to comment on, no graduations for any children, no child news of any kind to report, no reason to pull it together because there is no other child to support, there will be no high school graduations, no college to worry about, no weddings, no grand children, and no one to help me as I age. No one to inherit anything that I may have, and the list goes on. Get the picture?! There are big, big differences with losing an only child both emotionally, physically, financially, and you name it. These are just the tangible differences.
In line with this conversation, I was chatting back and forth today with my friend in cancer, who is also a mom who lost an only child to cancer. My friend was getting a test done at the hospital. While at the hospital she was in a room with two nurses who were having idyll conversation back and forth with each other in front of my friend. The subject matter of choice was Father's Day! Now to the average person such a topic would be harmless, but to us, this is anything but harmless or idyll. A part of me wonders..... would any mom who lost a child to cancer feel threatened by Father's Day conversation? Or is this something that mothers who lost an only child feel more bothered by?! I don't know, maybe this is a ridiculous question. But I do know that parents who lost onlys tend to have more extreme reactions to holidays and to what they lost and what is no longer present in their lives now, what life no longer looks like for them, and how it seems impossible to get back on any sort of track. Finding happiness for us is much harder because we lost our identity, in many cases our social network, and we are not only faced with the trauma and loss of a child but the crisis of who we are and what are own futures will look like. It is simply perplexing and all the while we have to navigate in a world where typical and everyday conversations set us off constantly! Constantly! At first I thought it was just me, but now when I see it through my friend in cancer's eyes, I see....... NO IT ISN'T ME! The problem isn't with me, or US, the problem lies with the hand we have been dealt.
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