Tonight's picture was taken in February of 2004. Mattie was about 2 years old. What you can't see from the picture was our deck was covered in SNOW. Mattie desperately wanted to go out and play in the snow, and so I dressed him up for his outting. Peter was heading outside with him and I was most likely still in my pajamas and hiding behind the door, so as to not get photographed. As you can see from Mattie's expression, he was partly fascinated and partly not sure he wanted to go outside. Needless to say, Mattie did venture out, and what he most loved about the snow was his ability to build and create with it!
Quote of the day: When he shall die
Take him and cut him out in little stars
And he will make the face of heav'n so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun. ~ William Shakespeare
Today was a HARD day. The night before it snowed in DC, or I should say there was freezing rain, so schools were closed and most things were operating on a delay. However, I did get up and debated greatly as to whether I should go out or just stay home. I have been dealing with a migraine headache that has left me feeling very debilitated and sick to my stomach. However, I wanted to find a new book of quotations to use for the blog, so I was compelled to visit the bookstore. Going through books of grief quotes on top of how I was already feeling was most likely not a great plan.
As I entered the bookstore, I had a very difficult time even finding the grief section. I went through three different salespeople until I found one woman who could actually assist me. The section in this MASSIVE bookstore was very, very small. I think that alone speaks volumes on how WELL and freely we discuss grief in our society. NOT WELL! In fact, if you picked another psychological issue, I can almost guarentee you that there were more books to purchase on it than on grief. Amazing and yet sad.
While I was going through books, there was NO place to sit. So with my headache, I decided to literally sit on the floor. Well between being on the floor, having a headache, and feeling a bit overwhelmed, I found myself crying right in the aisle of the store. I remained at the store for over two hours on the floor, reading, crying, and listening to the music they had piped into the bookstore. While in this state, Peter and Ann were text messaging me back and forth. When I got to the point where I felt like Alice in Wonderland, drowning in a pool of tears, that is when Ann heard enough and got in the car and came to the bookstore to find me. She found me and instead of moving me, sat down in the aisle with me and there we sat. Talking about Mattie, life, loss, and how I was feeling. My intention was not to mobilize Ann to the bookstore, but as I told her later in the day, I am not sure I would have moved from the floor without her assistance. So I am happy she came, and I am happy she let me be however I needed to be. Rarely do I have a meltdown out in public, but I think there were many circumstances in place today that brought my feelings to the surface. So much so that it really did not matter where I was, it was just going to happen.
Later in the afternoon, Ann and I got together with our friend, Tanja for lunch. Lunch was a good diversion, and helped me reset my feelings for a little while. At lunch, Tanja gave me a few gifts that she and her daughter, Katharina made for me. They handpainted a moon and a sun for me, both were pottery trinket boxes, that beautifully symbolize Mattie. Tonight I placed both boxes by Mattie's ashes, which I keep in an Italian handcarved jewlery box. I think Mattie would appreciate both the sun and the moon next to him.
I received a lovely story from my mom last night that I wanted to share with you. This weekend she and my dad felt connected to Mattie and she wanted to let me know about this special encounter.
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Inspired By Mattie by Virginia R. Sardi
Were they serendipitous or inspired encounters that unfolded on Sunday? I will let you be the judge but I sense the hand of Mattie’s will at work at the events that unfolded without any thoughts about Mattie as we made our plans for the day. Los Angeles was blessed with beautiful weather over the week-end, a week-end where the sun was shining, the sky a heavenly blue and the hillsides green and alive with healthy vegetation, the result of recent rains. Mauro and I decided it would be a perfect day to eat “al fresco” at one of our favorite restaurants that we recently visited with Vicki when she came to visit. Unfortunately, when Vicki was here, the weather was cold and blustery and we were forced to eat indoors. Today, however, was so glorious that it was a pleasure to sit near a babbling brook, the restful sound of water soothing to the heart and mind, putting us at a distance from the cares and burdens that normally occupy our daily existence. As I gazed upon this tranquil setting, I spied a ruby throated hummingbird on the wing. He was flying with the sunshine directly on his body, highlighting that magnificent ruby color so that it sparkled like a precious jewel. Whenever I see a hummingbird, it makes my heart soar because of its fragility, fluttery appearance of its wings and the elegance with which it can fly through the air defying gravity and reason. It was indeed the start of a beautiful lunch that did not disappoint. Seeing the hummingbird started me thinking about Mattie and how meaningful that would have been if he were with us to share the moment. It is times like this that I miss him dearly and revisit the painful loss of his presence in our lives. This I liken to a perpetual wound, sometimes felt consciously and at other times hidden from view, that creates a deep sense of melancholia that changes an otherwise beautiful world into shades of gray, black and white.
While thinking of what might have been had he lived, I spied a father wheeling his daughter, a child of no more than 6 or 7, to the table next to us. It did not take a rocket scientist to deduce that she had cancer. She was bald and unnaturally pale and fragile in appearance. She bravely and brightly made herself comfortable and courageously enjoyed the delights of a glorious day. Later, she was joined by several other families with children who came to sit at her table. She seemed happy and gay as she seized this moment to do what normal and healthy children take for granted: talk, laugh and have fun. Her dad was a trooper and did all he could to make the occasion special. He asked her several times what she wanted and did everything in his power to make things seem just right. It was déjà vu for me and Mauro as we recollected powerful memories of watching brave Mattie take on his cancer with a determination to make the most of his fleeting time on earth. Thinking about the hummingbird and the child in the wheelchair, I realize that if we had kept our original appointment and not moved it ahead by over an hour, this serendipitous encounter with a child fighting cancer might never have occurred. Although it reawakened painful memories, it is my hope that through Mattie’s foundation that Vicki and Peter have committed their lives to, this young and beautiful child whose precious life is on the line, will have the opportunity to conquer her cancer and lead a long and healthy life. I am sustained by that hope that when Americans open up their eyes to the need and sufferings of children ravaged, through no fault of their own to the destructive powers of cancer, that collectively they will demand that society put an end to the murderous assault of this disease on children and in my heart, I know that Mattie would want me not to lose my passion to see this become reality. Today, I felt strongly that Mattie wanted to strengthen my resolve to stay committed to his cause! Mattie, you can always count on me to continue the fight you started until it is won!
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I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from Mattie's oncologist and our friend, Kristen. Kristen wrote, "Looking at pictures of Mattie when he was just a baby, last night in his tot-wheels, makes me think of my own son and the amount of love I have for him. It is crushing to know that you experienced just as much love for Mattie and he was so quickly taken away. Despite being there with you through at least some of your experience with cancer and now after the cancer...I see both of you in a new and different light. I see you before cancer...and my heart breaks even more. Know that I am thinking of you. This Tuesday and every day."
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