Friday, August 3, 2012

Friday, August 3, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2008. This was Mattie's kindergarten class' end of the school year party held at a local park. In this picture, Larry, one of Mattie's teachers was opening up his class gift, and Mattie and the other kids were chatting, capturing the attention of the camera, and having fun together. Mattie's classmates are moving into fifth grade this year, and it is hard to accept that Mattie never made it past kindergarten.

Quote of the day: One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life; that word is love. ~ Sophocles


In my mind, I am permanently stuck as a parent of a seven year old. As Mattie's classmates grow older and move up a grade, I get disoriented, because in my mind I am still back in kindergarten, and expect them to be there too. Peter and I missed First through Fourth grades with Mattie, and therefore we will never know what his favorite subjects were, what he liked best in school, and overall how he would develop as a person over time. To me Mattie will always be seven! As August approaches, parents begin focusing on school resuming in September, another aspect of life I am no longer a part of. But it isn't as if I never experienced the first day of school with Mattie, I had, and that is what makes this aspect of loss part of my overall grieving process.

Despite being a bereaved mother, at the core of who I am, is a person who has always listened to people and I have been able to draw people out of their shells to reveal their inner most feelings. For as long as I can remember, people came to me with their problems. I have been likened to Lucy in the Peanuts comic series, I just did not have a booth or a tin can accepting coinage! In fact, in seventh grade, my neighbor who sometimes picked me up from school would get frustrated with me because I never came out of school on time. Why? Because typically kids wanted to talk to me. Not that I had solutions to their problems, but I imagine they liked talking to me because I always listened and did not judge them for what they told me. In a way, I had an interaction today which reminded me of the skills that define me as a person. Since the story is not mine, nor do I wish to reveal who I was speaking with, I will just say that over time I have had the opportunity to get to know this particular woman who is close to my age (also keep in mind this is not a therapy relationship). Each time circumstances bring us together we talk, I have gotten to know her family, and she most certainly knows about Mattie and my experiences with his hospitalization and death.

Recently this woman confided in me, and we find that we have a lot in common, which in and of itself is a blessing. It is always wonderful when you feel someone else understands you and how you are feeling. Today this woman told me that what she confided to me, she hasn't shared with anyone outside of her family. In fact, when her sister heard she told me, she was shocked. I have to imagine two reasons explain why this woman confided in me. The first is we have developed a friendship over time and second my own experiences with Mattie and my ability to express that vulnerability enables others to let their guard down. Needless to say, our connection with each other is very meaningful and appreciated both ways.

Tonight Peter and I went out to dinner in our neighborhood. After dinner we took a walk around and came across a wonderful Outdoor Sculpture Exhibit literally in our backyard. I have highlighted three pieces which caught our attention!

This outdoor sculpture is entitled, "Curve" by Foon Sham. It is shaped as a large vessel made out of cedar, and it is meant for the spectator to walk inside. When I saw it, my immediate reaction was if Mattie were with us, he would have run right inside. So Peter went in instead.

This work is entitled "Cone Tower #3" by Pat McGowan. She basically repurposed plastic traffic cones into a massive arc spanning someone's front yard.


















This piece is fascinating and makes you literally want to stop and climb on and up!!! It is entitled, Alfalfa Root at 4.5 months old by Dalya Luttwak. The idea to sculpt roots came to her after a tree fell on her car. Tak­ing pho­tos of the acci­dent for insur­ance pur­poses, the image of the unearthed roots stayed on her mind and became a favorite topic of artis­tic exploration.