Tonight's picture was taken in April of 2004. As you can see, with the beginning of spring, Mattie was in his favorite location.... in his sandbox on our deck. Once Mattie learned to appreciate sand, he couldn't get enough of it. We spent many warm weather days out on the deck together. This frog sandbox remains with us today. It no longer sits on the deck, but right outside our deck door in our commons area. There are many children who stop by on nice weather days to play in the box. I still haven't gotten over seeing children playing in Mattie's sandbox, nor have I adjusted to hearing the sounds of children playing from my kitchen window. Those sounds bring back memories of Mattie, and in a way they remind me of what Mattie was deprived of, a chance for a simple childhood and a long lifetime.
Quote of the day: Love remembered and consecrated by grief belongs, more clearly than the happy intercourse of friends, to the eternal world; it has proved itself stronger than death. ~ Dean Inge (Dean of St Paul's, London)
On the 79th week of Mattie's death, tonight's quote seemed quite appropriate. Mattie's brief life continues to be remembered in us each and every day. In fact, through grief and writing about our grief, one can easily see the love that existed among the three of us, a love and longing that causes intense grief. Grief for me has evolved. It isn't something I consciously think about anymore, instead, it is simply ingrained in me. I know it is always a part of me, it clouds my feelings and thoughts, and it has become like an additional appendage. Except unlike an appendage, this figurative one is very heavy, it slows me down, and it takes me to some very challenging places. Love is indeed stronger than death, and I think in many ways grief helps to process this love, understand it, and keep it alive.
I had a busy day today focused on all sorts of things. I am ramping up the preparations for the three part kindergarten art series and I went to AC Moore this morning to purchase all sorts of supplies. AC Moore is one of my favorite stores to roam around in, and having a list of items with me helped to keep me focused. Otherwise I have found that it would be easy to wander around and become distracted by other interesting items and potential projects. I have been thinking, for months now, about how to make Picasso and Matisse more tangible to six year olds. Things are finally coming together in my head and I look forward to telling you about the first session on March 30. Needless to say, in each session we will be talking about content, learning about these artists' lives.... even what they were like as a child, seeing the art work, doing hands on art projects, and finishing off the session with a themed snack.
Between running around today, I stopped at a restaurant to have lunch. The irony is prior to Mattie's illness, I would never have gone out to lunch alone. The whole thought would have made me uncomfortable, since I always viewed eating as a social experience. However, since cancer struck my world, eating has become a rather unpleasant experience. I find that I need a certain level of peace, calmness, and no time limit to eat. So I no longer feel uneasy at all being out by myself. I always travel with a book and this is a good distraction for me. I am reading a fictional novel entitled, Handle with Care, by Jodi Picoult. This is a story about a little girl who was born with a genetic disorder called Osteogenesis Imperfecta. Basically this disease produces weak bones, which makes one susceptible to fractures. The author does a wonderful job describing the complexities of this disease and how it impacts the quality of life for the entire family. Needless to say I am engrossed in the book for many reasons such as its exploration of medical ethics and personal morality. While reading over lunch, I came across this sentence ......"A dutiful mother is someone who follows every step her child makes. A good mother is someone whose child wants to follow her."
This sentence stopped me in my tracks today. In fact, it made me reflect on my relationship with Mattie. I never thought about motherhood in the way that Picoult described, but if I do, then by her definition I was a "good mother." I most certainly was dutiful, but Mattie always stayed close and always wanted to be a part of everything I did. Perhaps it was the realization of what his physical proximity to me back then really meant, it meant (naturally) that he wanted to be around me, he wanted to do things with me, and it symbolized our love. That whole notion sent me spiriling in thought. I suppose it is in those moments, that I miss Mattie even more than my usual minute by minute feelings.
This evening, I had another opportunity to chat with my parents by phone and to update them about Mattie's Foundation and the amazing progress we are making for the Walk. I know they are proud of our accomplishments and yet sensitive to the fact that I am not always good at putting my personal needs and health before others and my obligations. The beauty of being a parent is your primary objective is your child's best interest. I observed that tonight, and naturally this was something I always implemented with Mattie.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from Mattie's oncologist and our friend, Kristen. Kristen wrote, "So little time to think today...but just a note to let you know despite this lack of 'thinking' time you were thought of... This Tuesday and everyday."
1 comment:
Thinking of you and Peter and Mattie, as I do everyday in my daily prayer!
Maureen
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