Tonight's picture was taken in September of 2008. This was Mattie's second month into treatment. By that time all of his hair on his head fell out. For the most part, this did not seem to bother Mattie. Or it didn't while he was in the hospital. When he was out in public, what he did not like was people staring at his bald head. He could feel people's reactions and this evoked various feelings for Mattie. I think the hospital truly became a safe space for Mattie, because he was surrounded by an incredible care team of nurses, art therapists, physical therapist, and child life specialist. All of these women made the impossible much more bearable! As you can see, Mattie was a busy fellow even on chemo, and I am thankful for his love of creativity, because it helped to navigate many rough moments.
Quote of the day: Happiness is the china shop; love is the bull. ~ H. L. Mencken
I can't understand what happened to the summer. One minute it was the beginning of May, and the next minute it is September. I have never liked changing over from summer to fall. I did not like it as a kid, most likely because it meant that school was starting, and I definitely do not like it as an adult. Summer signifies more freedom to me. Freedom to be outside, freedom to see nature and greenery, and freedom from being inside of my house.
When Mattie died, the whole notion of Fall changed for me. I went from a mom, who was tied to Mattie's school community, to just a woman, who was a bereaved mom and no longer part of the school community. There weren't fall events, no playdates, and therefore September not only signifies the month Mattie died, but also the month that I stopped actively being a mom. I am reminded of this heartbreaking change every September. As I am surrounded by people who are parents, who are getting their children to school in the mornings, and talking about school milestones......... I will never personally experience any of this.
Childhood cancer changes the lives of families permanently. I have seen it within myself, my marriage, and my future. I do think because I have personally experienced cancer and the death of my son, people feel very comfortable talking with me about their own diagnosis. Case in point, my car needs to go back in for service because I am uncomfortable driving it. To me it is still feels wobbly and though brake weights were put on the tires, I did not feel it made a difference. In fact, I feel the issue has gotten worse. My service provider called me today to arrange for my car to be picked up on Thursday. She and I got to talking and I learned that she has brain cancer. I knew she was going on leave until the beginning of the year, but today, I found out the reason why. She isn't telling all her customers, but she and I have a special connection.
I am devastated for her, especially since she has had a tough life up until this point. Ironically when talking to her, I pictured someone who is young and in her thirties. Turns out she is my age, which further connects us together. I told her I plan on calling the dealership periodically to check in for updates on her progress. She was telling me how she chose her oncologist, and talked about the importance of a rapport and connection. This is 100% correct! There are many oncologists out there, many are competent, but a cancer diagnosis leaves you vulnerable and therefore the right personality fit must be present for the team work to be effective. So I shared my perspective and insights and again this reminded me..... Mattie was indeed my life's greatest teacher. I use the lessons I learned from Mattie everyday to relate, connect, and support others.
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