Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Tonight's picture was taken in January of 2006. That particular day I brought gingerbread houses that I made from scratch to Mattie's preschool class. I wanted to give Mattie's class a fun activity and I spoke to Margaret, Mattie's teacher about this. Margaret encouraged me to take on this project and even introduced me to her gingerbread house baking mold. For years to come, I borrowed Margaret's baking mold to make many many more houses for Mattie and friends. Margaret introduced a whole world to us. Mattie and his friends were THRILLED that day and I am so happy to have these memories. The kids did not realize at first that the stuff in the cups (to help stick candies onto the house) was royal icing (which is edible). They thought it was glue, until one of them tasted it! I am not sure what was more of a hit that day...... the candy, the house decorating, or the licking of fingers covered in royal icing!!!
Quote of the day:............maybe I would want to wrap my arms around a project that might help me make some sense of his loss, that might live on to make a difference for others. I don't know. Truthfully only you can know your limits. ~ Judy (Melissa's mom)
I received two meaningful emails today from friends. The first email supplied me with the quote above. The quote is written by a mom who lost her daughter to an eating disorder. Yet despite why our children died, the overall outcome is the same for us. We have the need to make sense out of the loss. It almost becomes one's life mission. Like this mom, I too have had to wrap my arms, hands, and fingers around a project for my sanity. In this case, for the past several days the project has been our Foundation's work on a national psychosocial standard of care. I practically haven't left the computer for three days now. Like Melissa's mom, a part of me does this kind of work to make a difference in the lives of others, but at the core my motivation is always to carry on Mattie's legacy and by creating such a standard this will achieve my goal in a very meaningful way.
The second email I received was a link to an article entitled, The Closure Debate. Within the article is also a 17 minute video. I have mixed feelings about the video, but overall the concept this clinician was trying to illustrate was well demonstrated. Her premise is that our society has created the notion of closure to make us all feel better especially when it comes to a loss of any kind. But in essence she feels closure actually doesn't make the griever feel better at all. In fact, it is almost counterproductive. Any one who has experienced a significant loss is aware of the fact that the notion of closure is ridiculous. As if a point in time will occur when we are able to snap out of our grief and compartmentalize our feelings about the loss. Which would mean in my case that I would have to acknowledge that there was a time in which Mattie was in my life, but now he has died and I have to accept this. I would have to place those thoughts and feelings somewhere, and move on. Move on so that I can rejoin the world of the living, of the happy, and the joyful. After all, are society is filled with happiness seekers. If you aren't part of the happy crowd, something has to be wrong with you. NOT AT ALL and MOST DEFINITELY WRONG!
When you ask a parent who lost a child to seek closure over the loss you will only create intense CONFLICT and guilt. Experiencing joy again and seeking closure means that Mattie is not part of my life anymore. Something that I refuse to accept, which is why I ultimately write the blog each day. It helps me remember and I also get to share him with all of you.
This clinician's feels that to ultimately heal one needs to learn to balance joy and grief together. They are not on separate ends of a person's continuum, instead they are interwoven into one's daily life. Brilliant and so true. I can certainly have moments of joy, but they are always tempered with Mattie's memory. Mind you she interviewed people who lost someone significant 20 years ago, and they are speaking the same language as me today. In a way this makes me feel that I am NOT alone, that there are others out there, in which closure doesn't work for them either. Not only doesn't it work but it only further acerbates the issues. I also LOVED how this clinician suggests to friends and family to meet the grieving person where they are, not where you want them to be. Presenting all sorts of options, ideas, and ways to MOVE ON won't work. I remember early on friends presented me with all sorts of options. I mean ALL sorts! I know now this band-aid approach was for them and not for me, because they felt helpless and not unsure what to do. At the end of the day, the key to helping someone with grief is not necessarily to make them feel better, not to distract and help to forget the pain, but to listen, to remember, and to accept that joy and grief go hand in hand.
http://peacethroughgrief.com/the-closure-debate
Tonight's picture was taken in January of 2006. That particular day I brought gingerbread houses that I made from scratch to Mattie's preschool class. I wanted to give Mattie's class a fun activity and I spoke to Margaret, Mattie's teacher about this. Margaret encouraged me to take on this project and even introduced me to her gingerbread house baking mold. For years to come, I borrowed Margaret's baking mold to make many many more houses for Mattie and friends. Margaret introduced a whole world to us. Mattie and his friends were THRILLED that day and I am so happy to have these memories. The kids did not realize at first that the stuff in the cups (to help stick candies onto the house) was royal icing (which is edible). They thought it was glue, until one of them tasted it! I am not sure what was more of a hit that day...... the candy, the house decorating, or the licking of fingers covered in royal icing!!!
Quote of the day:............maybe I would want to wrap my arms around a project that might help me make some sense of his loss, that might live on to make a difference for others. I don't know. Truthfully only you can know your limits. ~ Judy (Melissa's mom)
I received two meaningful emails today from friends. The first email supplied me with the quote above. The quote is written by a mom who lost her daughter to an eating disorder. Yet despite why our children died, the overall outcome is the same for us. We have the need to make sense out of the loss. It almost becomes one's life mission. Like this mom, I too have had to wrap my arms, hands, and fingers around a project for my sanity. In this case, for the past several days the project has been our Foundation's work on a national psychosocial standard of care. I practically haven't left the computer for three days now. Like Melissa's mom, a part of me does this kind of work to make a difference in the lives of others, but at the core my motivation is always to carry on Mattie's legacy and by creating such a standard this will achieve my goal in a very meaningful way.
The second email I received was a link to an article entitled, The Closure Debate. Within the article is also a 17 minute video. I have mixed feelings about the video, but overall the concept this clinician was trying to illustrate was well demonstrated. Her premise is that our society has created the notion of closure to make us all feel better especially when it comes to a loss of any kind. But in essence she feels closure actually doesn't make the griever feel better at all. In fact, it is almost counterproductive. Any one who has experienced a significant loss is aware of the fact that the notion of closure is ridiculous. As if a point in time will occur when we are able to snap out of our grief and compartmentalize our feelings about the loss. Which would mean in my case that I would have to acknowledge that there was a time in which Mattie was in my life, but now he has died and I have to accept this. I would have to place those thoughts and feelings somewhere, and move on. Move on so that I can rejoin the world of the living, of the happy, and the joyful. After all, are society is filled with happiness seekers. If you aren't part of the happy crowd, something has to be wrong with you. NOT AT ALL and MOST DEFINITELY WRONG!
When you ask a parent who lost a child to seek closure over the loss you will only create intense CONFLICT and guilt. Experiencing joy again and seeking closure means that Mattie is not part of my life anymore. Something that I refuse to accept, which is why I ultimately write the blog each day. It helps me remember and I also get to share him with all of you.
This clinician's feels that to ultimately heal one needs to learn to balance joy and grief together. They are not on separate ends of a person's continuum, instead they are interwoven into one's daily life. Brilliant and so true. I can certainly have moments of joy, but they are always tempered with Mattie's memory. Mind you she interviewed people who lost someone significant 20 years ago, and they are speaking the same language as me today. In a way this makes me feel that I am NOT alone, that there are others out there, in which closure doesn't work for them either. Not only doesn't it work but it only further acerbates the issues. I also LOVED how this clinician suggests to friends and family to meet the grieving person where they are, not where you want them to be. Presenting all sorts of options, ideas, and ways to MOVE ON won't work. I remember early on friends presented me with all sorts of options. I mean ALL sorts! I know now this band-aid approach was for them and not for me, because they felt helpless and not unsure what to do. At the end of the day, the key to helping someone with grief is not necessarily to make them feel better, not to distract and help to forget the pain, but to listen, to remember, and to accept that joy and grief go hand in hand.
http://peacethroughgrief.com/the-closure-debate
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