Sunday, March 7, 2013Tonight's picture was taken on April 2, 2009. Mattie was in the child life playroom at the hospital performing magic tricks. Sitting next to Mattie was the "Magic Man." Or as my faithful readers know, Mattie's head of the lower school. Bob came to visit Mattie often in the hospital and taught Mattie one on one many different magic tricks. As Mattie got sicker and his treatments got more intense, Mattie would shut down from talking and interacting with people. Magic was an incredible outlet for Mattie. As you can see, Mattie entertained many adults with his new skills. Magic gave Mattie a purpose, a direction, and a talent that others around him didn't have. I remember this day very well because while Mattie was with Bob and entertaining Linda (Mattie's Child Life Specialist), Jenny (Mattie's Art Therapist), and Sharon (the Hem/Onc Chaplain), I was with Mattie's first oncologist. It was on that day, I gave this doctor his walking papers. This doctor was not a good match for our family and when I found out he wasn't totally forthcoming about Mattie's lung tumors, that was it! This doctor and I had so many negative interactions with each other, that when I give a talk to health care professionals about what NOT to do with patients and their families, I pull from my rich database from working with this doctor.
Quote of the day: We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand. ~ Randy Pausch
This weekend we were expecting one of Peter's childhood friends to be visiting us. We came back from the beach on Saturday afternoon purposefully for this visit. After I unpacked yesterday, I decided to go grocery shopping since we literally had not much in the refrigerator after being gone for 10 days. I headed to the grocery store that I always shopped at with Mattie. I hadn't been in that store in a LONG time. Yet because I shopped in it each week with Mattie, I still knew where everything was located aisle by aisle.
Grocery stores are so clever as they feature toys and other items that attract the eyes and imaginations of children. Mattie and I never seemed to leave the store without something for him. Even if it were a small rubber ball. I remember being so frustrated with Mattie at times while grocery shopping, because of his insistence on getting something for himself. I tried rationalizing why we were shopping, that he had enough rubber balls and other things, and that we weren't toy shopping. Some shopping visits I was successful and others not so much. Now as I was walking through Safeway yesterday I reflected on these silly and ridiculous battles we had with each other. In the grand scheme of things it probably did not matter that he wanted a "prize" with each visit, but it did when I approached parenting from a typical developmental framework (a non-cancer lens). I did not want Mattie to become selfish, spoiled, and demanding. However, as a parent who experienced childhood cancer and then lost Mattie to cancer, I realize some of the pressures I put upon myself (which I imagine all parents do) while parenting a healthy child were skewed. Cancer changed my perspective on life, parenting, and priorities. Now I look at those little prizes that Mattie brought home with a smile because I realize these rubber balls made him happy, he loved his collections, and I have no regrets. I always tried to balance Mattie's desires with reason. Which was the only way to parent Mattie!
It is funny how a trip to the grocery store can evoke all sorts of feelings even three years later. With Mattie in tow, we became friends with all the baggers, the deli counter folks, and the list went on. Yet I walk in the store and my life is so different now. All the store personnel have changed and no one knows me or the fact that I was a mom. Yet being in that physical space served as that reminder.
No comments:
Post a Comment