Tonight's picture was taken in April of 2005. Mattie was three years old! This was a typical sight in our living room. Train tracks and set ups every where. Of course the one tell tale Mattie sign was.... the sippy cup of milk. It was like his security blanket. That cup came with us on every outing, no matter the weather!
Quote of the day: The world would be a nicer place if everyone had the ability to love as unconditionally as a dog. ~ MK Clinton
I would say that my day to day existence is very, very difficult. Trust me I have lived through difficult before with Mattie's diagnosis and death. So if I am saying, I am struggling, that means there is a problem. My tolerance level for problems is high. But the problem with my existence, not unlike Mattie being ill, is I can't control my life (or at least any aspect of my day)! What I do know is that for the foreseeable future, I am living in hell. My days are filled with chores, worries, stress, meeting constant needs and demands, and of course living with great upset, heartache, and uncertainty.
It took a lot out of me to face and cope with Mattie's death. It is hard to accept that I am a woman living life without raising a child and having the ups and downs of all the typical things that come with that beautiful responsibility. This alone has not been an easy adjustment, but I took comfort in the fact that I was facing this impossible journey with my husband. I was not alone. Now I continue to face the loss of Mattie, but I am navigating that and this additional loss. It took a long time to accept that I could have any sort of future without Mattie, and that was bad enough. But this current reality is a nightmare on top of the already given nightmare I live with.
This morning, I was juggling chores, and a ton of linens. I change the beds every two weeks and mind you my dad sleeps with 16 pillows on his bed. So just changing pillows is a feat. My dad's physical therapist came over this morning. She is a lovely young woman and she adds a bit of life to our lifeless house. By mid-afternoon, my mom wanted to go out, so I took them both to Starbucks for a snack.
In all reality, neither my mom nor I can handle interacting with people. We have no interest in small talk, conversation, or hearing about the issues and problems of others. This is counter to how we typically operate. However, I know this feeling all too well. It is the reaction to trauma. Which is why I am not as surprised by how we are feeling. It is a known path and journey to me. If I were to focus on my true emotions for too long, I would get sad, depressed, and feel hopeless.
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