Friday, December 20, 2013

Friday, December 20, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2003. The process we went through to capture this photo is beyond memorable. Mattie was an active one year old and there was NO way he was going to sit still and take a Christmas photo. So I had the brilliant idea of taking him to Home Depot and Lowes. Mattie seemed to like these stores, though he wasn't wild about sitting in a shopping cart. During the holiday season, these stores are filled with lights and all sorts of decorations which captured Mattie's attention. So literally Peter and I entered Home Depot first, took Mattie's coat off, and started walking around the aisles until we found a good back drop. However, our Home Depot photos came out awful. So we put Mattie back in the car and drove to Lowes. We did the same thing at Lowes, we got Mattie out of the car, into a shopping cart, removed his coat, and started strolling around the holiday aisles. Here was one of the photos we captured and was featured on the front cover of our Christmas 2003 card!

Quote of the day: Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity. ~ Hippocrates

It if funny, Los Angeles is only three hours behind East Coast time and yet for some reason the initial days here are always an adjustment. I was up at 4am, which is unheard of for me. I attempted to go back to sleep but by 6am, I got out of bed and decided to bake cookies. My mom had asked me to put a couple of cookie trays together for friends and I figured there was no time like the present. 

I remember when Peter and I used to take Mattie to Los Angeles as a toddler. Mattie had an awful time adjusting to the time difference. Literally for days Mattie would wake us up at 4am and be totally on and ready for a FULL day of activities. When I look back at those days, I thought they were challenging but in all reality they were a cake walk in comparison to managing Mattie's cancer. It is interesting how life experiences but other issues into context.

Neither of my parents are feeling well at the moment and therefore from my perspective I came to visit at the right time. Though I have no holiday decorations in our home in Washington, DC, I do try to decorate things within my parent's house for Christmas. One could try to analyze why this happens....  why it is easier for me to do this here than at home? I am not sure I have any real answers to this predicament, other than escaping DC and my own environment can serve as a temporary diversion. 

In my parent's neighborhood there is NO mistaking that it is the Christmas season. Many of the houses display a HUGE star on their front lawn. I mean HUGE. Each has to be 5 or 6 feet tall and it signifies the fact that the community is high up in the hills, close to the stars. I suppose one could even say these man made stars light the way, as a symbolic gesture of the bright star that guided the Wise Men when Christ was born. I can see lights everywhere, unlike where we live in DC. In our DC complex, very few people decorate and therefore it is much harder to develop holiday community spirit. 

Certainly one shouldn't need community direction and energy to feel the spirit of Christmas. However, I do find that now that Mattie is gone, I need more incentives, prodding, and energy from those around me to inspire me to want to engage in the holidays. Perhaps on some level when people encourage me to participate in things for the holidays, it gives me the permission to allow Christmas in. I say permission because no matter how many years go by there is a level of guilt and sadness that is ever present when you know you have outlived your child. I am not sure one ever gets over that feeling and instead the feelings become much more pronounced when holidays approach. Perhaps they become more pronounced too because if we do not focus on Mattie's memory, what he meant to us, and what we lost, who else will? My responsibility now as Mattie's mom is to keep his memory alive and I take that role very seriously from blog writing to running his Foundation. Losing a child to cancer is a journey that I wouldn't wish upon any parent because it is a true testament of resilience and survival.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken on December 5th of 2002. Mattie was eight months old. I can still recall snapping this photo. I wanted that year to capture the "perfect" photo of Mattie, since this was his first Christmas with us. Nature was on my side, since we had a dusting of snow that morning. The snow inspired me. So I dressed Mattie up in his Santa outfit, threw a Christmassy blanket over his entertainment saucer, and literally we brought Mattie outside on our deck and started taking photos. The series of photos we captured was beyond charming. But this was the actual photo used on the front cover of our Christmas card in 2002!


Quote of the day: Man often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it. On the contrary, if I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Tonight I am writing to you from Los Angeles. It has been a whirlwind. Peter got back from his business trip to Louisiana at 11:30pm on Wednesday, and then Peter got up and out and drove me to the airport today. My flight boarded at 7:15am. Peter's trip back home was eventful because his Delta flight was grounded in Louisiana due to mechanical failure. I thought I would not see Peter before I left for LA, but he found a way to get home by switching airlines. 

How I got to the airport this morning is a feat in and of itself because I am tired. However, after I boarded the plane, the pilot let us know that our plane was having issues. NOT what to tell a person like myself who already doesn't like to fly. There was a water leak in the back of the plane. Fortunately it was resolved and our delay was only an hour. Yet the interior of the plane this morning was freezing! Normally I do not like when the passenger next to me crowds me in my seat and rubs arms with me. But interestingly enough today I welcomed the body heat from my seat mate.

Once I landed in LA, I found that both of my parents are sick with what looks like a flu and bronchitis. So I spent some time cooking chicken soup and other things that I know I appreciate when I am not feeling well. It was a grey, damp, and rainy day in Los Angeles, so being inside was the best alternative. In addition to soup, I also baked coconut macaroons. This was a first for me. I have heard so many people tell me how difficult they are to bake, but all I know is I was able to pull this off one, two, three. I credit the success to the recipe on the shredded coconut bag. I have seen other macaroon recipes that intuitively make no sense to me, so when I spotted this one in the grocery store today, I figured it was worth a try. I love eating cookies but when home alone, I am not as inspired to bake. Mattie was always our excuse to take on these sweet projects. Not because he liked sweets, he actually hated them, but he loved the cooking and concocting process. So in essence he brought life and energy to everything we did.
 

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken on December 5 of 2002. I recall this day as if it were yesterday. It was our first snowfall that year and it inspired me to take a Christmas photo of Mattie for our annual holiday card cover. Since it was Mattie's first Christmas with us, I wanted the photo to be special. Poor Mattie did not know what was happening. I dressed him in his Santa suit and dragged his entertainment saucer out on our deck. I draped a plaid blanket over the sauce and plunked Mattie inside of it. Literally Peter must have snapped 30 or more photos of Mattie with this backdrop. This was not the final shot we selected for the card. That one I will feature later in the week. But to me this one was also priceless. It captured Mattie's desire to move around!!! 

Quote of the day: Sometimes you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself. ~ Unknown

I started my day off at the dentist office. I know going to the dentist can be an unpleasant experience for people. However the beauty of this particular office is they try to set a peaceful tone as soon as you get off the elevator. The office has candles, a huge picture window and a computer generated fish tank. I have had the same dental hygienist for years and Libby understands that I have certain sensory issues and if you clean my teeth the wrong way it will be less than pleasant for both of us. Over the years I have come to know my dentist too. My dentist has bone marrow cancer and as he explained to me today what that means is that he has to be on oral chemotherapy for the rest of his life. In addition to that, he also had hip surgery and because of the nature of his cancer, he is having trouble walking again. This is a person who loved to run and now he is walking around either with a walker or wheelchair. He told me about his frustrations and how he feels unable to do his share of things at home. Needless to say he knows about Mattie and as he said we have big crosses to bear! We commiserated together.

Later in the day I went through our mail. A couple of days ago I posted on the blog about my feelings regarding Christmas cards. Typically I do not talk about cards but that day I had read my friend Annie's blog and it was the push I needed to address the topic. As I mentioned a few days ago, Peter and I used to receive hundreds of Christmas cards while Mattie was alive. However, once Mattie died, I am sure people were torn as to what to do. Send a card or not send a card? Especially when these cards tend to have happy photos of children and families. I must admit those cards are still hard to receive. It is a constant struggle as a mom who lost her only child to cancer. I want to be happy for my friends and share in their lives, and yet their lives are way too much for me. So I shut down. It isn't just me who shuts down, other parents who lost children do the same thing. It is some sort of self protection. Yet at the end of the day, this self protection is also hurtful because it cuts us out of the real world. 

Any case as I wrote about a couple of days ago, I have a friend who sends me a Christmas card each year. This card doesn't feature photos but it is a card that is personalized to us and our situation. This card means a lot to me! I received that card today and it always makes me smile. It makes me smile because what my friend is acknowledging is that Christmas isn't the same for us and she also remembers Mattie. Yet in addition to this card, I received a second card just like it this year from another good friend. She explained in the card that she read the blog and was so happy I expressed what I needed at this time of year. This card was a great gift to me because my friend took the time to read the blog, absorbed what I was saying, and then execute on the sentiments. At times I feel like I am writing into a deep abyss and not sure if I am getting my thoughts and messages across. Today's card was a wake up call to me that I am.     

In addition to working on all sorts of Foundation things today, I also took a break and worked on my first crocheted scarf. My friend Helen, who was visiting from Boston recently, showed me how to create a scarf. I never held a crochet needle in my life, but she and my friend Ann changed all that. They got me yarn and a needle and I guess the rest is history!

I am signing off for now, and hopefully will be writing to you tomorrow from Los Angeles. 

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Tuesday, December 17, 2013 -- Mattie died 222 weeks ago today.

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2002. This was Mattie's first Christmas with us. The highchair wasn't actually one of Mattie's favorite places to hang out. Nor did he particularly care about eating. I think part of the reason he did not care for either option was because it entailed sitting still and being confined in place. Nonetheless, we learned quickly the types of foods Mattie enjoyed and with these foods he would put up with the chair for small bits of time. A baby's first Christmas I think is more exciting for the parents than the child, since the concept of the holiday doesn't form for many years down the line. Yet I am happy we captured these moments with Mattie, so we can reflect upon them now and into the future.

Quote of the day: It deeply saddens me that we live in a world where grievers have to defend their right to grieve. The only thing it does is create more grief. ~ Angie Cartwrite

Peter is back on travel again and left for Louisiana today. He is safely on the ground and when he returns late Wednesday night, I will be leaving for Los Angeles on Thursday. That is way too much plane travel for me to absorb this week.

This afternoon, I met my friend for lunch at Mattie's favorite restaurant. Peter and I typically go to this restaurant on the weekends. But when I entered the restaurant today, I saw our buddy Mike. Mike manages the front desk of the restaurant during the weekdays and I haven't seen him in a while. When Mattie was healthy, my parents and I would take Mattie often to this restaurant after preschool. It was a place we all could agree on food wise and Mattie knew if he went to this restaurant Mike would give him a big greeting and also give him some sort of toy car or plane to play with. Since Mattie loved anything with wheels, that was the highlight of his visit. Mike saw Mattie grow up from a preschooler to an elementary school student, and then unfortunately while battling cancer. Mike would push Mattie's wheelchair for us, make a fuss over him, but yet treat him as if he was still Mattie. Not SICK Mattie. Mike holds a special place in our hearts even after all these years. But that is the beauty of emotional connections. At the end of the day that is what we remember..... how people make us feel!

Later on today, I received an email from my friend Maria. She wanted to share a story with me. She was visiting a store in Arlington, VA and happened to pull out the microfiber cloth we sent our Foundation donors for Christmas in order to wipe the lens of her glasses. When the store owner saw the cloth, he asked Maria how she knew Mattie. Maria was intrigued by the question and wondered how this individual knew of the Foundation. It turns out the store owner came to our Foundation Walk in May and was so impressed with the event that he and his friends are coming back this May. Needless to say, Maria's email was a major gift to me. She did not have to share this story with me but I am SO happy she did. I am thrilled our Foundation holiday gift is being used and also that it caused conversation about Mattie and his Foundation. Music to my ears!

Monday, December 16, 2013

Monday, December 16, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2002. We took Mattie to our sister-in-law's house during the Christmas holiday season. With us in tow was Mattie's jumper! That was another lifesaver. This thing attached to any door jam and enabled Mattie to sit and move around. Mattie loved jumping, swinging, and moving. It gave him instant mobility and freedom at eight months of age. 


Quote of the day: True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable. ~ David Tyson


The highlight of my day today was seeing a good friend of mine who is quite sick. This friend was instrumental to me through Mattie's preschool days and therefore we have known each other a long time and in so many different contexts. While chatting with my friend's daughter, I learned that Mattie's cinnamon dough ornaments that he made for her back in 2007 were up on her Christmas tree. I am not sure why that surprised me given the nature of our friendship, but I have to say hearing this made me very happy. Happy in the sense that a part of Mattie was at my friend's house and she remembered who gave her these ornaments. These ornaments seem like a tangible part of Mattie and therefore through these cinnamon creations Mattie lives on. 

When Mattie died in 2009, my friend gave me a Pandora bracelet with a charm on it. The charm was of the sun. That symbol of the sun has multiple meanings. Mattie's first love of the sun was the result of his preschool. Why? Because the school's logo is a beaming sunshine. From that, Mattie consistently drew and painted the sun into everything he created. But the quintessential sun for us was the incredible painting Mattie did with his kindergarten art teacher in 2008. Needless to say, after Mattie died, the sun was the natural symbol of choice for us to incorporate into the Foundation's logo. Yet when Mattie died I just wasn't sure how to remember Mattie. What could I wear or carry with me to keep him and his memories close to me. My dear friend solved that problem by giving me a bracelet.

For the past several years, I have been adding charms to the bracelet my friend gave me. Unlike other Pandora bracelets which may have flair, color, and style to them, mine is a bit different. It is different because I select charms that represent Mattie, our relationship together, and the memories we shared. Which is why the bracelet has bug charms, lighthouses, flowers, hearts, the initial M, butterflies, and angels. It is my MEMORY bracelet and it would have never dawned on me to do this without the encouragement of my friend. 

Before I left my friend's home today, she gave me a Christmas gift. Given how sick she is, I certainly did not expect her to to give me anything. They say that life's unexpected gifts are the most meaningful, and I would have to say there is a great deal of truth to this. My friend gave me two more charms today, one is of a glimmering angel and another is a heart with a symbol of happiness on it. The charms are beautiful in and of themselves but what captures me is the meaning behind them. My friend felt that I bring her happiness and I am an angel. These are two charms that I will never forget and will hold dear! They are symbols of our special friendship which was created for me by Mattie. 

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2002. This was Mattie's first Christmas and probably the only Christmas we really ever celebrated at home. Most Christmases we were traveling to see family. That certainly has its pluses and minuses. But at the end of the day, what this resulted in is very few Vicki and Peter traditions of our own. I am not sure what our holiday times would have evolved into as Mattie got older, but being with family was important to us and therefore we made great efforts to make that happen. 

Quote of the day: People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost. ~ Dalai Lama


I spent a good part of today running around doing chores. It is impossible not to see Christmas all around me now. I hear it on the radio, I hear holiday music piped into stores, and of course decorations have practically been up since Halloween. Gone are the days in which Christmas preparations began after Thanksgiving. Now we seem to have bypassed Thanksgiving altogether, and have jumped directly into Christmas. 

In many of the stores I went to, the cashier wished me a happy holiday. I realize that is common courtesy and also good form since this reflects back on the store. Yet these two words can wreak havoc on many of us at this time of year. We may all long for the Norman Rockwell kind of holiday that we have seen depicted in prints, but that isn't always the reality of the situation. That notion alone can bring about sadness, and instead of cheer, this time of year can cause great reflection. Reflection on what is missing in our lives.

All I know is when I came back home after shopping, in which I saw families out and about with their children, I came home in a terrible mood. I practically snapped Peter's head off when I walked in the door. We had talked about going out together for dinner, but I wasn't in the mood to venture back out again today.   

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2002. Mattie was eight months old and a ball of fire. Mattie was born on and very curious. I loved this reindeer onesie on him and he looked like the spitting image of a happy and healthy baby. It would have been absolutely impossible for us to guess what was in store for our family in 2008! You most likely can't tell, but Patches (our calico) was also in this photo. In many ways, Patches was like our "where's Waldo?" She was always on the scene. If you look passed Mattie's stroller, on the floor you can see a white tipped tail. That was my Nurse Patches! She was intrigued by Mattie and ALL his baby gear!


Quote of the day: Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow. ~ Dan Rather 

Last night Peter and I went to his office holiday party. As my faithful readers know, I really no longer like going to parties or attending group activities. Typically once I get the nerve up to go, I seem to manage, but it is taking the first step to go and attend which isn't easy for me. However, going to this particular party was not an option. I wanted to support Peter, especially when I knew other employee spouses would be there. For the most part conversations at the party were very surfacey and therefore in such circumstances I can become distracted from our reality. Everyone in Peter's office saw our Fox 5 broadcast about the Foundation's candy drive, so I got a lot of positive feedback about that. As the evening moved along, I decided to finally sit down after standing for several hours. While sitting, I saw a young man approach me. At first I was uncertain who this was, but as I looked at his face, I knew this was Tyler. Tyler is a young adult now and he is the brother of Charlotte. As a recap, Charlotte and Mattie went to kindergarten together and Mattie deemed her "his girlfriend." Actually Mattie gave Charlotte an engagement ring (a plastic ring he got from a good dental cleaning) while in kindergarten. I am not sure what inspired Mattie to do this, but in some ways, I think Mattie knew he had to pack a lot in during his short lifetime.

Any case, when I met Tyler years ago, he was in high school. Now he is a college graduate. Which is why at first I did not recognize him all dressed up and with a tie. Tyler was attending an office party at the same restaurant as us and while walking down the hallway, he spotted me. Tyler came over and gave me a big hug. To put this in context, when Mattie was battling cancer, Tyler coordinated and hosted a "battle of the bands" concert as a fundraiser for Mattie. He did this as a teenager, and the event was super successful. All I can say is seeing Tyler transported me right back in time. A time in which his sister and his family were in our lives on a regular basis, and of course a time when Mattie was alive.   

Also while at Peter's office party, Peter and I received a text message from our friend Tanja. Tanja was at Mattie's school last night attending a choir concert with her daughter. While Tanja observed the 6th grade performing, she said she got VERY upset and something came over her. At first I did not understand what she was getting at, because remember in my mind Mattie will always be 6 years old and in kindergarten. But if Mattie were alive today, he would be in 6th grade. When Tanja saw the 6th grade perform she felt something and more importantly someone was missing! Our Mattie! Receiving Tanja's message meant a great deal to me. What her message was telling me is that she remembers Mattie, misses his presence, and isn't afraid to tell me. She then thanked me for sharing my grief journey with others and allowing people inside to understand the true emotions behind losing a child. I view this text message exchange as a beautiful holiday gift. 

Today Peter and I visited Mattie's lower school campus. On that campus is Mattie's memorial tree. As many of you know, I deem this tree the twinkling tree. It twinkles because on it is a birdhouse, a wind chime, hot wheel cars, butterfly ornaments, and Legos. These things adorn Mattie's Tree on a regular basis. We added a beautiful red bow around the tree and snowflake ornaments in honor of Christmas 2013. 

A close up of the red bow and one of the butterfly ornaments! 

I tried to capture all the items on the tree in this photo. Despite the rain, we were out there decorating and cleaning up around the tree. We might not have a Christmas tree at home, but Mattie's tree gives us the opportunity to get outside and acknowledge the holiday as a family. 

Friday, December 13, 2013

Friday, December 13, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2002. Mattie was eight months old and as you can see was NOT interested in crawling. Mattie wanted desperately to walk. He actually had a great deal of leg strength and if I held his hands, he could walk anywhere. This occurred early on in his development. Maybe as early as four months. What I love about this photo was the cute reindeer on Mattie's onesie! He was our walking reindeer that year.


Quote of the day: Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen. ~  Winston Churchill


I absolutely LOVE Churchill's quote. We tend to associate courage with standing up and advocating, which of course it is, but courage is MUCH MUCH more than that. To listen to someone, especially someone who is grieving takes enormous courage and strength. It also takes time, patience, and a great deal of love. If I had to list the one absolute MUST for a grieving parent for survival, I would say it is the need to be heard. Today I was reminded about this once again from both of my friends in cancer. My friend Ilona lost her son in June and Annie lost  her daughter in May of 2010. Obviously both women are in different places along the grief continuum, yet I understand exactly what they are both saying. In fact, it is sometimes hard for others not going through what we are facing to truly get the picture of what stands before us, especially on the holidays.

As I read my friend Annie's blog today, she wrote about Christmas cards. It is an issue I face each December, but I doubt I have written much about it on Mattie's blog. Like Annie, Peter and I used to send out HUNDREDS of Christmas cards every December. We did this as a married couple and then when Mattie came along, we featured Mattie on the front cover of every card. Mattie was diagnosed with cancer in 2008, and therefore the last time we sent out cards was in December of 2007. To this day, Peter and I still do not send out personal holiday cards. We send out a holiday greeting on behalf of the Mattie Miracle Cancer Foundation, to our supporters to highlight our year's accomplishments and our appreciation for their contributions. But in my heart of hearts, I can't send out personal cards. I am neither interested nor have the desire. With that said, what about receiving holiday cards?!

When Mattie was alive we received as many cards as we sent out. Did I like receiving cards? Most definitely. I love cards because to me they show the creative side of people and I can tell a lot about a person based on what is written or not written in a card. Soon after Mattie died, people continued to send us cards. All sorts, but mostly cards filled with family photos, photos of their children, and updates about the wonderful happenings in their lives. I have to admit such cards were hard to receive and perhaps on some level they remain hard to receive. Yet now four years into this journey, I have noticed with each year, we receive fewer and fewer cards. I am not sure if this is an indication of being forgotten or people are just unsure of what to do with us. Nonetheless, we have feelings and it is painful not to be included in some way, and this further reminds me just how disconnected a bereaved parent is from the rest of the world. What works? I have a friend who sends me a holiday card each year, but it isn't one she sends to everyone else, it is a card just for me. Acknowledging the pain of the holiday season but also with the reflection that my presence is important in her life and that of others. I will never forget the first year receiving such a card! To me it was brilliant and really what every grieving parent needs...... to be remembered and not forgotten. What such a card illustrates to me is that my friend has what Churchill stated.............. COURAGE!!!!

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2003. We took Mattie to Los Angeles that Christmas and my mom set up a tree just for Mattie. A tree that was his size. As you can see, Mattie had a great old time tearing through gift wrapping to get at his presents. I think as parents of a healthy child we took this simple act of opening up gifts for granted. Thinking we would have many more Christmases like this. Now looking back at this, I realize how special these moments were and I am glad I captured them somehow for years to come.


Quote of the day: What mattered was still there. That was what they all felt, and what surprised them all. What mattered couldn't be shaken. ~ Jodi Lynn Anderson

The lady on the right, sitting with the red pillow behind her is my friend Mary. I had the opportunity to see Mary and attend her 85th birthday luncheon today. Mary's birthday is significant to me because I met Mary five years ago on her birthday! It is ironic, Mary and I have only known each other for a short period of time and yet within these five years so many losses have occurred.


Mattie died on September 8th of 2009 and Mary's husband died about a month later, on October 5th of 2009. I will never forget this whole time period for many reasons. Caring for Mattie through his cancer battle was incredibly intense. We lived in the hospital for over a year and rarely slept. It is actually hard to imagine functioning without sleep, but  I am living proof that the body can get used to such abusive treatment long term. It has it consequences of course, but we managed to adjust in order to help Mattie. After Mattie died, Ann's dad (or Mary's husband) was taking a turn for the worse. Because Ann (who was our team Mattie coordinator when Mattie was battling cancer) was so instrumental in helping Peter and me, it was a natural fit to help Ann while her dad was dying. Allowing someone into your life to help deal with a family member's terminal illness takes courage and quite frankly it is a very intimate experience. Since I was unable to sleep and was used to working with medical issues by that point, helping Ann's dad die was a skill I had and could apply to help my friend.

I know when Peter and I present on palliative care panels, people are amazed to hear what we did as soon as Mattie died. Because what we did was we moved into Ann's house to help her balance her children and her dying father. This may sound like an unusual thing to do, and most likely Peter and I needed different things at that time. But what I needed right after Mattie died was to be needed and to care for someone. Losing Mattie was so traumatic and my body was so conditioned to being hyper alert in the hospital that I really couldn't function in our regular society. I needed another medical care setting to turn to and this is where Ann's father came in. I sometimes wonder what my life would have looked like without having moved into Ann's house two weeks after Mattie died, without having cared for Mary's husband in his nursing home, and then trying to help Mary after her husband died?

I do not have answers to any of these questions, but I tell you this story because I think it puts into context my deep connection with Mary. She isn't just my friend's mom. Mary and I went through many challenges together and back when she was verbal (something I miss now given her neurological disease), we also talked about what it was like for both of us to lose our sons to cancer. Post deaths, we spent a great deal of time together, and for me this wasn't just a task to pass the time. Spending time with my friend and her family was my way of trying to reinvest in the living world. With that being said, my decision to help did impact my grieving process then and now into the future.

Another highlight of the day was I learned how to make a scarf using yarn and a crochet needle. Ann's aunt, who is also my friend, is visiting from Massachusetts. She surprised me with a hand made gift and then showed me the technique she uses to make these beautiful scarves. The funny part about this is Helen wasn't sure anyone would like her scarves. But the scarves are delicate, feminine, and eye catching. This was my first time using a crochet needle and I found the whole project fun, but then again I like crafting things. Another lesson I learned about myself after Mattie died. When Mattie was alive, I probably did some creative things, but it wasn't until Mattie died that crafting took on a whole new level. I remember the first Christmas we spent without Mattie, I was designing candy cane trees for Ann. Needless to say she has many of my candy tree creations, but I needed an outlet. Which is why even today AC Moore maybe one of my favorite places to visit during difficult moments.
 

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2003. We took Mattie out to California that holiday season to visit my parents. In the backyard were orange, lemon, and grapefruit trees. Mattie joined me as I picked the fruits off the trees. However as you can see Mattie was absolutely fascinated by the fruit. To him they looked like colored balls. In addition to examining each piece, Mattie also tried sorting them by color and shape. 


Quote of the day: Our attitudes control our lives. Attitudes are a secret power working twenty-four hours a day, for good or bad. It is of paramount importance that we know how to harness and control this great force. ~ Tom Blandi

Our attitudes can really make us or break us on all sorts of issues. Since Mattie's blog focuses on our grief journey since his death, it is grief attitudes that I am particularly interested in here. How a parent copes with a child's death is very attitude driven. Like all attitudes they can wax and wane. Some days  our attitude and outlook are better than others, and then there are time periods in the sea of grief, when things seem bleak and those around us exacerbate our negativity. I find going through the loss of Mattie has given me great insights and from them I know what helps me and what sets me off. In fact, I feel these insights could help and support other parents who also lost a child. 

With that said, I wish I did not have to lose Mattie to gain such knowledge. But it is indeed knowledge that unfortunately not everyone possesses. I wish that others simply understood what I needed or would be sensitive to wanting to find out. With an emphasis of FINDING OUT!!! But I guess without the direct pain and insights of living a grieving parent's nightmare 24/7, it is hard to know what to do, say, or how to help. I think the key though is NOT to assume you know how a grieving parent feels and to give this person the opportunity to share feelings, yes even after the first year of grieving! Our society has some sort of sick association with the first anniversary of a child's death. In that after the first year, magic takes over and everything returns to equilibrium. However, that is incorrect and things certainly never return to the way they were.

Today I had the opportunity to have lunch with my friend Tina. Tina and I are both foodies and we love trying news things, sharing foods, and discussing them. After lunch I went back to Tina's house and got to see her Christmas tree and its beautiful and sentimental decorations. Like me, Tina gives great thought to how her tree is decorated. Each ornament has significance to her children, family, and  the times they spent together. It was like a living visual history of her family. In my perspective it was stunning. We chatted about the tree, memories with the ornaments, and of course with each ornament I learned more about my friend. It was a lovely interchange. After we talked Tina then asked me if I decorate for Christmas, guessing that I probably didn't anymore. Somehow addressing this topic of decorating made me very sad and made me cry. Though this is a sad commentary, what I appreciated was being asked and also being understood for how difficult a time of year this is. Most of the times, I am surrounded by moms who are talking about the holidays, what they are doing with their children, presents, and the list goes on. How does a grieving parent process all of this? Not well without having friends who want to listen and process this. Again it comes down to attitudes. Some days it is easier to manage this than others, but at the core, for parents who lost a child, especially an only child, it is hard not to become bitter, jealous, and angered over how life has been transformed against our will. A transformation that can't be fully appreciated (thankfully!!!!) without going through it.   

Peter returned from Boston last night. To my surprise he handed me a package. Peter's mom baked all sorts of holiday cookies and gave me my own tin. As I told her, this was the best gift she could have given me. I took a photo of the gingerbread people. Notice that one person is already missing an arm. It was consumed, not missing! Peter's mom uses an orange oil when she bakes these cookies and they are fantastic! Mattie loved gingerbread cookies and I remember using Barbara's recipe for several years both when Mattie was in preschool and in kindergarten to design gingerbread houses and gingerbread men. I can't help but think of Mattie whenever I see gingerbread.