Tuesday, February 4, 2014 -- Mattie died 230 weeks ago today.
Tonight's picture was taken on November 14, 2008. Mattie was in the PICU recovering from his second limb salvaging surgery which he had the day before. I know I snapped that photo at the time because what I was seeing was noteworthy! It was overwhelming to imagine just how many ivs were connected to Mattie to manage his pain, not to mention drainage tubes coming out of his body at each surgical sight. It was heart breaking to see Mattie like this and even worse to hear him waking up from this surgery. In the midst of this great turmoil, we always had Mattie's origami cranes with us. A set was hooked onto the iv pole and the other beautiful set of 1000 cranes was hanging right over his bed. To this day both sets of cranes remain hanging in Mattie's room at home.
Quote of the day: It was one of those times you feel a sense of loss, even though you didn't have something in the first place. I guess that's what disappointment is - a sense of loss for something you never had. ~ Deb Caletti
My reaction to this quote when I first read it was thorough confusion. At least confusion as it would apply to a parent who lost a child to cancer. Our sense of loss is REAL and we most definitely lost "something in the first place." But stepping back slightly further, I realize that Caletti's quote makes perfect sense. The problem with losing a child (as if there is ONLY one problem!!!) is that the losses continue thorough one's life. As I compare myself to other moms, moms who parent Mattie's friends, I see that I have missed hundreds if not thousands of things such as: Mattie's first communion, school concerts and events, Mattie's graduation from fifth grade, Mattie's first year of middle school, and all the other FIRSTs that are all too hard to mention here. Mainly because the list would be endless. I pause and realize, it is upsetting because I am grieving for something I will never have the opportunity to experience.
I wonder sometimes when I am with people if they realize how challenging it is to hear them talk at infinitum about their children? Not everyone I interact with is this insensitive, but I have had my host of experiences. Part of me wonders what would be my equivalent? Should I sit down and then proceed to talk about Mattie's cancer battle, death, and our grieving process? Well the answer is.... of course not. That is not only a conversation stopper but somehow if I were to do this, I would be labeled as having issues and unable to let go. The thing is how does a grieving mom of an only child interact with other people now? Specifically moms who I used to know before. They tell me about their children, but I have nothing to share in return. These conversations only highlight the "loss for something I never had" and in the process it also makes me feel disconnected, out of place, and truly impacts in a negative manner the closeness I once felt within certain relationships. Which of course is yet another loss to contend with, the changing and severing of friendships. It happens, it has happened to me, and it continues to happen. Unfortunately I do not corner the market on this problem, it is a problem that I hear time and time again from bereaved parents. I just wish friends would understand the profound impact they have on us and how such changes in connections can compound our loss and already fragile state.
Tonight's picture was taken on November 14, 2008. Mattie was in the PICU recovering from his second limb salvaging surgery which he had the day before. I know I snapped that photo at the time because what I was seeing was noteworthy! It was overwhelming to imagine just how many ivs were connected to Mattie to manage his pain, not to mention drainage tubes coming out of his body at each surgical sight. It was heart breaking to see Mattie like this and even worse to hear him waking up from this surgery. In the midst of this great turmoil, we always had Mattie's origami cranes with us. A set was hooked onto the iv pole and the other beautiful set of 1000 cranes was hanging right over his bed. To this day both sets of cranes remain hanging in Mattie's room at home.
Quote of the day: It was one of those times you feel a sense of loss, even though you didn't have something in the first place. I guess that's what disappointment is - a sense of loss for something you never had. ~ Deb Caletti
My reaction to this quote when I first read it was thorough confusion. At least confusion as it would apply to a parent who lost a child to cancer. Our sense of loss is REAL and we most definitely lost "something in the first place." But stepping back slightly further, I realize that Caletti's quote makes perfect sense. The problem with losing a child (as if there is ONLY one problem!!!) is that the losses continue thorough one's life. As I compare myself to other moms, moms who parent Mattie's friends, I see that I have missed hundreds if not thousands of things such as: Mattie's first communion, school concerts and events, Mattie's graduation from fifth grade, Mattie's first year of middle school, and all the other FIRSTs that are all too hard to mention here. Mainly because the list would be endless. I pause and realize, it is upsetting because I am grieving for something I will never have the opportunity to experience.
I wonder sometimes when I am with people if they realize how challenging it is to hear them talk at infinitum about their children? Not everyone I interact with is this insensitive, but I have had my host of experiences. Part of me wonders what would be my equivalent? Should I sit down and then proceed to talk about Mattie's cancer battle, death, and our grieving process? Well the answer is.... of course not. That is not only a conversation stopper but somehow if I were to do this, I would be labeled as having issues and unable to let go. The thing is how does a grieving mom of an only child interact with other people now? Specifically moms who I used to know before. They tell me about their children, but I have nothing to share in return. These conversations only highlight the "loss for something I never had" and in the process it also makes me feel disconnected, out of place, and truly impacts in a negative manner the closeness I once felt within certain relationships. Which of course is yet another loss to contend with, the changing and severing of friendships. It happens, it has happened to me, and it continues to happen. Unfortunately I do not corner the market on this problem, it is a problem that I hear time and time again from bereaved parents. I just wish friends would understand the profound impact they have on us and how such changes in connections can compound our loss and already fragile state.
1 comment:
Hello Vicki and Pete, my name is Linda Blohm, i work with and consider myself a friend of Christine Cooper. We had a death of a woman at the office (USPTO) and Christine and I were talking about it; and she shared your story with me and sent the links to your foundation and blog. I have been reading the entries and watched Mattie's remembrance video ~ what an angelic child, my heart breaks for you. Your Feb 04 quote of the day ~ It was one of those times you feel a sense of loss, even though you didn't have something in the first place. I guess that's what disappointment is - a sense of loss for something you never had. really touched me. I never had children, and im just now engaged for the first time in my life, i'll say it - im 52 yrs old/young. so i think i understand the quote too, i sense loss for children that might have been. But i do enjoy others' children. i come from a catholic family, one of four; with 11 nieces/nephews, and 3 grand nieces, and look forward to more. I will continue to visit your blog and would be honored to contribute to the foundation, and will do so. What you are doing is so wonderful. take care, linda
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