Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2004. That day we took Mattie to the Children's Museum in DC! At the time it was a rather decrepit place, but it was small enough for a little one to be stimulated and engaged in. The museum had a display of vehicles, including a motorcycle and big red firetruck. Though Mattie may have been with Peter on the motorcycle, he was very much focused on the big red truck right next to them!
Quote of the day: Sensitive people feel so deeply they often have to retreat from the world, in order to dig beneath the layers of pain to find their faith and courage. ~ Shannon L. Alder
Last night Peter and I ventured back to Mattie's school to attend their musical production of Beauty of Beast. Peter and I both love musicals and I attribute our participation in our college choir as the reason we met each other. Music connected us at a very young age. As the years have gone by and of course we have been forced to face life's greatest tragedy of losing a child, we still turn to music.
Yet attending any production at Mattie's school is fraught with all sorts of issues. It truly is a catch 22. Do you go or not go when invited? If you don't go, you may miss out on connecting with others, seeing live theatre, and basically engaging with the world. Yet attending always comes with consequences. Returning to a school where Mattie once was is challenging at best. Sure you may think of the typical reasons for why this maybe the case..... the physical environment may remind us of Mattie, it is hard to be around healthy children who are growing and thriving, and knowing that Mattie never had a chance to go to school beyond kindergarten. Certainly all of these things could set one off, but this wasn't the main reason Peter and I came home in a funk last night.
The main reason is two fold. Returning to school is hard because this is now a community that neither remembers us or Mattie. To the majority of people, Mattie means NOTHING, nor do we. We are true outsiders and our child is forgotten. It almost feels like we are walking ghosts among people who know each other. We can see everyone, but no one sees us. The second part is we are no longer parents and it is hard to understand from time to time what is our identity? After all, we were parents for seven years, and then because of cancer, we lost this role and title. Overall last night was very startling, humbling, and a harsh reality (faced once again!). A reminder that we live in this world, but at the same time are not a part of this world.
I am sure all of this is hard to understand, or maybe it isn't. If I did not have a friend or two to confide in, who have also lost children to cancer, I would think that something was profoundly wrong with me. But the sentiment and feelings we have are WELL understood and felt among my friends. It is understood because we are part of a unique culture, that speaks its own language, and has its own rituals and ways of coping with the world. So the question is.... what would I do if invited again? I don't know, but despite that feeling, I can appreciate the fact that I heard live music. Which to me is important and an art form worth supporting.
No comments:
Post a Comment