Tonight's picture was taken on August 13, 2008. By this point, Mattie was a few weeks into treatment. That day, we received a visit from Scooby Doo. Mattie was thrilled as he was an enormous Scooby Doo fan. We had no idea we were going to get this surprise visit, but it perked Mattie up. Do you see the two Scooby Doo stuffed animals on the bed? Ironically years later (after Mattie died), we were introduced to the dad of the young man dressed as Scooby Doo. Apparently seeing this photo really touched this family and they wanted us to know.
Quote of the day: Sometimes even to live is an act of courage. ~ Seneca
Seneca's quote is quite poignant, especially when we are talking about the death of a child to cancer. Trying to move forward after a child dies is an absolute feat. In addition to this devastation is the sheer fact that people think you will return to normal. Especially after surviving the first year of grief. Unfortunately this is NOT the case, and I would have to say that with each successive year since the death the reality of the loss sets in further. All of which has consequences on one physically and emotionally.
Yesterday I bumped into neighbors of mine whose mom died three years ago. This coming week is the third anniversary of her death. They mentioned to Peter and me that they were going out of town for the anniversary. I am sure to the average person, one is saying..... why? However, no explanation was needed for us, as we completely got it.
Why do people leave or disengage from their lives on anniversaries? We do, NOT for ourselves, but because the world around us can't handle the reality that the death of a close family member is still painful. In fact, the world keeps revolving and carrying on, during these anniversary dates, and such busyness can be absolutely unsettling and surreal. So much so that a host of emotions can spring up from such insensitivity..... specifically sadness and anger come to mind.
While talking to Peter last night, he mentioned how helpful it was in the beginning when we spoke and told our story at conferences and professional meetings. Back then, people WANTED to hear our story. I would have to say the MOST therapeutic thing a grieving parent can receive is a listening ear. Someone who understands that we have to tell our story over and over. I think by telling it and hearing it out loud, it engages us to come to terms with our reality. Otherwise, it just seems impossible to think that a once healthy child, could go through cancer treatment and then die. It makes no sense and frankly I am not sure it will ever make sense. But I appreciated Peter putting this into words and expressing the value of telling our story.
However, as Peter was reflecting on the numerous conferences we presented at in 2008 and 2009, it made me pause. I paused because I said to him.... 'NO one wants to hear our story now.' Sure we continue to present on the work of the Foundation, but even the professional community is under some sort of delusion that we are all better now. That we have moved on and are stronger. Though it is important for first year grieving parents to tell their story, I would say that grieving parents throughout the continuum of grief need to be heard. I imagine professionals do not highlight people like Peter and me at their conferences because the truths that we would speak are overwhelming. Meaning the reality would be too scary to hear for parents who are new to grief, and certainly daunting for any professional to hear. Daunting because providing support to a bereaved parent is not a short term endeavor. It can't be, because of the nature of the loss is not natural and unfortunately never goes away. Instead you carry it with you everyday and old wounds always get reopened at holidays, when the school year starts and ends, graduations, life events like religious ceremonies, college, vacations, marriage, and the list goes on.
No comments:
Post a Comment