Saturday, March 9, 2013

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2009. Mattie was visited that day in the hospital by Charlotte. Or as Mattie called her, "his girlfriend." Mattie and Charlotte met each other in kindergarten and became instant and close friends. Despite Mattie's cancer, Charlotte always came to visit Mattie. She saw the good, the bad, and the ugly during his cancer battle. She was a brave six year old and a loyal friend. As you can see on the silk screen that Mattie was holding he drew a picture of Charlotte, as a reminder of their day together. Indeed Charlotte is blond, blue eyed, and has an infectious laugh. Mattie knew how to get Charlotte to smile and laugh and when she laughed you couldn't help but want to laugh too. Also notice the sun in Mattie's drawing. No matter what Mattie drew, the sun was always depicted. He did this from an early age. Given this, it should be no surprise that we selected the SUN to be the symbol of Mattie's Foundation!


Quote of the day: When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trail head any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore. ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

Gilbert's quote captured my attention because her "night" has nothing to do with the time of day! Instead "night" refers to something far more ominous and harder to predict and cope with...... depression or grief. As her quote so aptly points out, night (as we all know) is inevitable. It follows the daylight hours. It happens again and again, and it is out of our control. Yet in the dark we can all feel disoriented. Living with grief from the loss of a child produces the same level of disorientation, confusion, directionless, and it can be all consuming that it is hard to know when and if it will end and whether you will see the sun (or in essence hope) again. But like the night, grief also seems to just happen, it is a feeling or cloud that weighs you down whether you want it to or not. The power of grief is hard to describe and sometimes you can't always predict when this darkness will set in. 
 
Today Peter wanted to go visit Mattie's tree. So we went to Mattie's school and spent some time cleaning up the debris on the tree. Peter planted bulbs around the tree a month ago and shoots are beginning to poke through the dirt. We will be back to the tree later in the month to decorate it for Mattie's 11th birthday. I must admit I have been feeling very tired, run down, and sad lately. I am not consciously thinking about it, but my friend Nancy pointed out to me that perhaps the connection was the fact that Mattie's birthday is approaching. She maybe right! In fact, I recall feeling quite the same last year at this time of year, as if my body has an internal clock to regulate grief. It logically makes no sense to me, and if I wasn't living this life, I am not sure I would even believe these feelings if I read them from someone else.

After our tour of the tree, we then drove to Mattie's upper school campus, where we hold the Foundation Walk each year. This year we are trying to change some aspects of the event and therefore spending time in the space is crucial for planning purposes. Peter and I spent two hours on campus. In the midst of being there we were surrounded by kids playing sports, families running about, and then we also bumped into Charlotte and her father. Planning the Walk has many ups and downs, and from my standpoint a great deal of stress. Anyone running a business knows that unless you generate funds, there is NO business. The Foundation is exactly like that, and our biggest fundraiser is in May and with that comes angst and the desire to make our goal and continue the work of the Foundation. This work is so intimately related to our son. To me failure is not an option because it would be a direct reflection on my connection to Mattie. Others may not see it this way, but then again the Foundation isn't their baby. I do consider ourselves lucky to have a core group of volunteers who are right there with us and work hard to help achieve our vision for the Foundation Walk. This is quite a gift because each year that we move further away from Mattie's death, his memory does become less vivid for some. Those who help keep Mattie's spirit alive are never forgotten but appreciated and cherished.