Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2005. This was classic Mattie. Moving, doing, and building! He could do all simultaneously! He was the ultimate multi-tasker. Mattie loved to build big lego structures on wheels. So this large colorful block actually moved and Mattie was trying to serve as a tunnel, so that this big thing could drive underneath him with my help! Mattie always thought outside the box and he kept me on my toes everyday. There was nothing boring about Mattie, and he had a way of signing you up for his fun and antics!
Quote of the day: At times, we are the bridge that allows another to re-enter the world after a loss. Don't mistake it for more or its beauty may be lost. ~ Danielle Pierre
I came across this quote today, and though I wasn't purposefully looking for the content it is expressing, I felt it was important to talk about it nonetheless. I feel Danielle is expressing herself based on her own personal experiences with loss. Though it sounds as if she was writing the quote from the perspective of a friend supporting a grieving friend. Whether she is the griever or the supporter of the griever, the quote is meaningful and spot on. Personally I believe she is writing the quote based on her experiences of having lost a "bridge" in her life after the death of a loved one. I say this because her quote seems like it is desperate to find and attach meaning to a friendship that once existed but doesn't anymore. One can't possibly accept that a friend would abandon them through the grieving process, so instead, she has found a way to find the beauty through the pain.
Sometimes the friendships we make in grief seem so profound, so intense, and transformative. Almost like no other friendship we had before. After losing someone so profoundly important, we tend to muddle through grief and the world initially by clinging onto those who throw us a life line. Perhaps people who went through the loss with us, supported us during it, and understand the nature of the bond that was severed by death. These people who help us through the most raw aspects of grief are our bridge! These bridges seem like they will always be a part of our lives, that the bond you share transcends time and other relationships, and that you will always have this person to turn to moving forward. But Danielle aptly describes this support and what can happen to it over time. Sometimes these friends, like any bridge disintegrates.
Yet facing the fact that friendships you thought were so profound, so meaningful, and so important to you are only temporary can be hard to stomach. It is hard because when these bridges fall apart, the griever is left with two problems. The original grief from the death of a loved one and now compounded grief over the loss of a friendship. Perhaps as you read what I am writing you have absolutely NO IDEA what I am talking about and can't relate. Fortunately or unfortunately as the case maybe, I have had the opportunity to talk to many grieving parents through the years, who get exactly what I am talking about. In fact, if I used the terminology of a bridge, I bet they would get it right away. They would get it because so many of us who lost children also lost our friends and personal networks. This is not a Vicki problem, it is a situation problem. Not that this makes me any happier knowing that I am not alone. It doesn't.
Today, ONE DAY LATER, I got a call from the radiologist who performed my biopsy on Friday. She called to share the results with me. I did not hear the phone ring, so she left a message. When I returned her message, I got the general breast center's answering service. Personally I just laughed! I laughed out of disgust, not happiness or funniness. Imagine if I did not know the results yet and I was waiting for this individual. Desperate to get a hold of her, only to land up in a voice mail, not knowing when I would get a call back!? What a commentary about our health care system!
This morning I received a photo of this wonderful letter below that was sent to me by my friend Heidi. Heidi does a collection of candy for the Foundation's annual drive in her neighborhood. One of her neighbor's left this message for Mattie Miracle and Heidi passed it along to me. I found this letter deeply touching and I feel we need more Annabelle's in our world. Annabelle is in 5th grade and after hearing about our candy drive decided to donate all of her Halloween candy (10 pounds) to us. She feels we need it more than she does. The letter is priceless and written in ORANGE, Mattie Miracle's color. Annabelle is a true Mattie Miracle Worker.
Dear Mattie Miracle, My name is Annabelle. I'm in 5th grade. I go to the French Lycee (lee-say). My parents told me a few nights ago that I should give some candy away, but I reached down into my heart and decided to give it all away. There is 10lbs of candy! You deserve it more than me.
Signed,
AC
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