Monday, September 9, 2019
Tonight's picture was taken on September 1, 2009. This maybe the last photo I took of Mattie in the month of September, because a week later, he died. That day, Mattie was readmitted to the hospital. He was in terrible pain, which we could no longer manage at home. It was Mattie who elected to come back to the hospital, as he did not feel comfortable at home. Which should give you a good indication for how miserable Mattie felt. Pictured with Mattie is Jenny, one of his art therapists. Jenny worked very hard that day to try to engage Mattie, divert his attention, and to give him a moment of happiness with a remote controlled dinosaur.
Quote of the day: Your instinct may be to avoid someone who is experiencing loss because you fear you'll say the wrong thing. But loss can be very isolating, and if you stay away, you will compound the loss and the pain. ~ Robbie Miller Kaplan
Last week, Peter and I attended a non-profit fundraiser. It was not childhood cancer related. Within the event was a bingo tournament. I have played a lot of bingo in my life, and I can safely say..... I have still yet to win.
While at the event, a woman came over to our table and asked if she could join us as the event was full and there was no other table available for her. We welcomed her and chatted for quite a bit. Naturally it being back to school season, we heard a lot about her children and their schools. She asked us about our children, and I just said it was a long story and skipped over it. Since this wasn't a childhood cancer event and we were not there to spread awareness about Mattie Miracle, I did not feel it was the appropriate place to have such a conversation.
Then we moved into the actual bingo tournament of the evening. We were all good sports about the game, as none of us expected to really win. The goal was to support the non-profit. While one game finished and a next was about to begin, our table mate said to me.... "I live a happy life, so I don't need to win Bingo." She then said, "I am sure you feel the same." Well something about that comment set me off, so I literally said.... "no I have not had a happy life" and told her that we lost our only child to cancer. She was in total shock. You know when you can see on someone's face the fact that they are replaying in their head exactly what they have been talking about with you the whole evening. I believe that was what I was observing.
I did not say the comment to make her feel badly, but in essence that is what happened. I always land up asking myself why people think it is okay for me to absorb their conversations about their children and their life, and yet it is NOT okay for them to hear about my life. I know this is a rhetorical question, but I do ask myself this on many occasions.
Tonight's picture was taken on September 1, 2009. This maybe the last photo I took of Mattie in the month of September, because a week later, he died. That day, Mattie was readmitted to the hospital. He was in terrible pain, which we could no longer manage at home. It was Mattie who elected to come back to the hospital, as he did not feel comfortable at home. Which should give you a good indication for how miserable Mattie felt. Pictured with Mattie is Jenny, one of his art therapists. Jenny worked very hard that day to try to engage Mattie, divert his attention, and to give him a moment of happiness with a remote controlled dinosaur.
Quote of the day: Your instinct may be to avoid someone who is experiencing loss because you fear you'll say the wrong thing. But loss can be very isolating, and if you stay away, you will compound the loss and the pain. ~ Robbie Miller Kaplan
Last week, Peter and I attended a non-profit fundraiser. It was not childhood cancer related. Within the event was a bingo tournament. I have played a lot of bingo in my life, and I can safely say..... I have still yet to win.
While at the event, a woman came over to our table and asked if she could join us as the event was full and there was no other table available for her. We welcomed her and chatted for quite a bit. Naturally it being back to school season, we heard a lot about her children and their schools. She asked us about our children, and I just said it was a long story and skipped over it. Since this wasn't a childhood cancer event and we were not there to spread awareness about Mattie Miracle, I did not feel it was the appropriate place to have such a conversation.
Then we moved into the actual bingo tournament of the evening. We were all good sports about the game, as none of us expected to really win. The goal was to support the non-profit. While one game finished and a next was about to begin, our table mate said to me.... "I live a happy life, so I don't need to win Bingo." She then said, "I am sure you feel the same." Well something about that comment set me off, so I literally said.... "no I have not had a happy life" and told her that we lost our only child to cancer. She was in total shock. You know when you can see on someone's face the fact that they are replaying in their head exactly what they have been talking about with you the whole evening. I believe that was what I was observing.
I did not say the comment to make her feel badly, but in essence that is what happened. I always land up asking myself why people think it is okay for me to absorb their conversations about their children and their life, and yet it is NOT okay for them to hear about my life. I know this is a rhetorical question, but I do ask myself this on many occasions.
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