Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Tuesday, October 23, 2012 -- Mattie died 163 weeks ago today.

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2006. Mattie was a Calico cat and he and I designed his costume together. However, this costume has a story to it. When I reflect on Mattie's life, I sometimes forget the fact that he did not celebrate Halloween in 2005. In fact, I made this costume for Halloween of 2005, but that year, Mattie developed a terrible infection which brought us to Virginia Hospital Center (VHC). Mattie and I stayed together at VHC for several days as they tried to determine why he was SO ill. However, one of the days in which we were in-patient was Halloween! Unlike Georgetown, VHC has no child life department and at the time it was truly not child friendly. So there were NO Halloween activities in the Hospital of any kind for Mattie to participate in. Needless to say, I packed away the Calico cat costume and fortunately because it was made out of sweat suit material, Mattie was able to wear it in 2006. If you have been watching the progression of costumes over the last couple of nights (through blog photos), you most likely see a trend. Every costume was made out of sweat suit material!

Quote of the day: Have compassion for everyone you meet, even if they don't want it. What appears bad manners, an ill temper or cynicism is always a sign of things no ears have heard, no eyes have seen. You do not know what wars are going on down there where the spirit meets the bone. ~ Miller Williams


I started my day with going to zumba. I find when I exercise, I have more energy to take on the various components of my day. It was a glorious weather day in Washington, DC, so after class my friend Heidi and I had lunch together outside. While at lunch, Heidi invited me to a lecture tonight by an organization called, Rachel's Challenge. Not having a child in school anymore, I am not up to speed with the various programs offered to children and parents. However, I went to the Rachel's Challenge website (http://www.rachelschallenge.org/) and learned that Rachel was one of the first students killed in Columbine High School on April 20, 1999. The website is very touching and meaningful and clearly this dedicated group has put together a traveling outreach program to help teens, in order to try to prevent another Columbine from happening. So this evening, I will be attending a Rachel's Challenge event and I will report back tomorrow about this experience.

In light of the lecture I am going to, I think tonight's quote is quite meaningful. Because we truly do not know what is going on under the surface of children, teens, and adults we interact with. We come to our own conclusions based on how people treat us, but there is always an explanation for the behavior we see. It is just how patient and compassionate are we going to be to understand this behavior? I realize this is easier said than done. Yet, I am deeply saddened to see the video on Rachel's Challenge website which talks about the significant number of children and teens each day who have an actual plan for suicide. Which is why I think the role of a teacher is far more complicated today than it was when I was growing up. Teachers in many cases are the first responders to the issues they see with children in their classrooms. These are issues most teachers are not trained to contend with, and in our litigious society, I suspect many of the issues spotted get swept up under the rug by administration to avoid confronting the issue. Unfortunately when issues are not dealt with, they only grow bigger not smaller, and as Columbine illustrated to us some issues can implode and take down an entire school.

May we all find the time, energy, and desire within ourselves to stop and listen to those in our lives, even occasionally. Listening is by far one of the greatest gifts we can give another human being.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Monday, October 22, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2004. Mattie was two and a half years old, and just like the costume photo from last night (taken at age 1), Mattie did not want a cumbersome costume at age two. Soft textures were important to him and together we picked out this Pooh costume. From my perspective, I never saw a cuter Winnie the Pooh!


Quote of the day: Consider the postage stamp: its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing till it gets there. ~ Josh Billings




As I look at the calendar, I realize next week is Halloween. I know that logically but from an emotional standpoint, this is the furthest thing from my mind. Except of course that I see pumpkins, decorations, costumes, and Halloween party discussions all around me. So last night, I decided to go through my October electronic photo files to feature a picture on the blog of Mattie during Halloween. Mattie celebrated six Halloweens, though he died at age 7, he was a month shy of his 7th Halloween celebration. Trick or treating with Mattie was a riot, because unlike the other kids, Mattie could care less about the candy. In fact, Mattie gave the candy to his friends or to me. Which was truly funny. Nonetheless, he enjoyed running around from house to house, seeing how people decorated, and of course loved the fact that he could use a flash light and other light up gear to walk around in the dark. Mattie loved flashlights and had quite a collection. Not unlike Peter, so apparently it runs in the genes!

I came across tonight's quote and it happened to bring a chuckle to my face. Though it may sound funny, there is a great deal of truth to the loyalty of a stamp. The reason a letter gets through the US Postal service to its final destination is because of the stamp. Without the stamp, nothing gets transmitted. In a way, there are many times in life where we too have to be like a stamp. We have to stick to a task, a conviction, or a belief until we accomplish what we set out to do. Now this is easier said than done, in comparison to a stamp. As we know once a stamp is stuck on, it doesn't have to contend with the thoughts, feelings, and highs and lows of other people. All of which can get us side tracked from our ultimate goal.

On a non-Foundation related task, I sit on a parent board at Georgetown University Hospital. One of the things I am very convicted about is changing the admission process at the hospital for long-term patients. At the moment the system is redundant, a complete waste of time and an energy drain on harried parents, not to mention the fact that it is not user friendly. I have been working on this issue since the summer. I have verbalized my concerns, and today I finally submitted them in writing. Before doing this, I had the opportunity to meet with Mattie's sedation nurse angel, Debbi. I wanted Debbi to read my letter and make sure what I was reporting was accurate. It would be very easy to walk away from the Hospital and certainly the whole admissions process. After all, I suffered through it for over a year, so I suppose others can too. But I am not happy with that! So like the stamp, I am stuck on this issue and won't let it go. If you could read the letter I wrote detailing the concerns then I know you would understand just how cumbersome and UNNECESSARY the admissions process is for families.

Certainly acting like a stamp can cause others to do one of two things..... they can truly appreciate our tenacity, or feel as if our energy and passion we are bringing to the issue are over the top. It takes courage to be a human stamp sometimes, but at the end of the day, without tenacity, conviction, and passion, change typically won't occur.
 

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2003. Mattie was a year and a half old, and had no interest in putting on a Halloween costume that year. Or anything itchy or scratchy for that matter. Yet this pumpkin sweatsuit was the perfect choice. It was fuzzy and cozy and Mattie naturally gravitated to the colors orange and red.


Quote of the day: In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. ~ Albert Schweitzer
 
Today was a beautiful weather day in Washington, DC. Typically Peter and I do not do separate things on the weekends, but I was invited to lunch today by my friend and one of my former clinical supervisors. I met Carla at a restaurant tucked into a lovely neighborhood of Chevy Chase, MD. It was as if we were transported to France and were dining within a french bistro, filled with charming Provincial decor. The setting was lovely on a crisp fall day, surrounded by trees. We had a wonderful brunch together and talked about a whole host of things. Carla and I always had a lot in common, and our love for food and for trying new restaurants is definitely one of them.

We talked about friendships today, and one of the things Carla said which intrigued me was that we select friendships that match our developmental level or need. From a clinical standpoint, one's developmental level does not always match one's biological age! Yet during each of our life stages, we do find that we may gravitate to certain friends because they fill a need or void within our lives. Not all friendships can stand the test of time or the many seasons of our lives. The individuals who can are rare, few and far between, and naturally deemed special. As Carla and I know, so many people come to therapy because of these special voids within their lives. Living in the DC area, or most likely any major city, makes it challenging to develop meaningful and trustworthy relationships. Cities can breed competition, pettiness, and jealousy, which do not form the cornerstones of a solid and lasting relationship. Needless to say, we always have interesting clinical dialogues which get me thinking.

I would like to share three pictures with you this evening. The first one I entitle, "A room with a view." This is the picture window in our living room. At this time of year, the light changes with the Fall season, and yet you can see my geraniums are a glow, and Mattie's beautiful Oak tree (right outside our window) is turning colors. Mattie loved this oak tree because every spring we would pick leaves from this tree to feed to his tent moth caterpillars. It is the only oak tree around us! But what you can see from this picture is that we are surrounded by plants inside and outside. Soon many of our outdoor plants will be coming inside, and it is at that point our living room truly looks like a jungle.

 

In the corner of our living room is this plant stand. I no longer use it for plants, but instead it has become our Mattie corner. The stand is filled with pieces of pottery Mattie created, his hand print in clay, some of his Lego creations, seashells he liked, a huge American Flag he picked out at Home Depot when he had cancer, and on top of the stand is an Indiana Jones hat given to Mattie by his buddy Zachary.

From our balcony we can see this beautiful tree, which looks like it is on fire. Fall is all around us and on a glorious sunny day, I do appreciate the colors that only nature could create.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2002. Mattie was six months old, and his first Halloween was approaching. I remember taking this picture because I literally placed both the pumpkin and Mattie in the chair together, and as soon as I did, Mattie reached for the pumpkin. I believe this is my first time posting this picture to the blog, because I only came across it weeks ago.



Quote of the day: The last of the human freedoms is to choose one's attitudes. ~ Viktor Frankl


Viktor Frankl was a gifted psychotherapist who created and defined the field of existential psychology. He was a concentration camp survivor and his experience living in captivity and observing how this impacted the human spirit greatly influenced his theory and work. When I learned about Frankl in graduate school, I was immediately drawn to his depth and his perspective which is that our inner conflicts arise when we confront the givens of existence (eg: death, freedom, responsibility, and isolation). Which in essence means that we ALL have conflicts and instead of them being pathological, they need to be understood as part of being human. Of course how we deal with these conflicts may not always be in our best interest.

Weekends tend to be challenging for Peter and I. Yes we are three years into the loss of Mattie, and yes we are still waffling through the weekends. However, it felt as if we chose our "attitude" today. It could have gone either way in the morning, but by mid-day we had a plan. I went with Peter for the first time to the golf driving range. Peter loves golf, I on the other hand never played it. Other than in miniature form! Before Mattie was born, Peter was a business consultant and he played a lot of golf with clients, his company, and in tournaments. However, when Mattie came along and Peter changed companies, his chances to play golf dwindled. With Mattie's death, this is a sport Peter has re-engaged in. The beauty about golf from my perspective is it is a sport you can play throughout your life and it also takes place typically in a lovely outdoor setting. So today Peter taught me how to hold a golf club and to swing. It looks a whole lot easier than it actually is! There is nothing intuitive about keeping your left arm straight as you swing, and don't get me started about the actual stance of bending your knees. Nonetheless we had a good time together both on the range and putting green. Peter is a good teacher and watching him hit golf balls shows me that he not only likes to play but he is a good player. He just makes it look easy.

 

After being outdoors, we went out to lunch together at a restaurant I have introduced Peter too. My friend Karen makes fun of me because I tend to love restaurants whose names start with the letter C. I have no idea why this is the case, but wouldn't you know it the name of today's restaurant also started with the letter C. Go figure! Choosing one's attitude as Frankl implies is one of our human freedoms, and yet it can be so daunting to allow one's self to have a positive or upbeat attitude for various reasons. Our reason centers around the death of Mattie. For whatever the reason, I am glad we had some nice diversions together today.  

Friday, October 19, 2012

Friday, October 19, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2007. Our October weekend adventures with Mattie usually meant going to a fall festival. We practically did every one of them in the area. These fall festival pictures of Mattie always make me laugh. Because when Mattie first entered preschool he was scared to death of any kind of slide. Yet you can see in a short period of time Mattie made huge progress. Peter coaxed Mattie and provided initial assistance on his first hay slide experience, but then Mattie got the hang of it, and had no problem going alone. Despite going alone, I always had Peter walk up to the top with Mattie and I was always waiting on the bottom. I was very protective of Mattie which is ironic, because no matter how diligent I was, there was one thing I couldn't protect him against.  


Quote of the day: It is always the simple that produces the marvelous. ~ Amelia Barr

For the past several days I have been very focused on Foundation work, board work at the Hospital, and even licensure board items. With all these items pulling at me, it is easy to get overwhelmed. But I have managed quite well. One of the activities the Foundation is planning in February is a psychosocial think tank. We are funding 10 mental health professionals from around the Country to attend this think tank held at a National conference in California. The think tank is designed to pull leaders from the psychosocial field together to create and eventually implement a psychosocial standard of care for childhood cancer. I plug away each day, with this vital vision in mind. However, as I have begun to contact the 10 committed professionals this week, I am getting incredible feedback from them of great thanks, appreciation, and admiration of me. I haven't given it much thought, but from their perspective it is novel and refreshing to find someone in the community who runs a Foundation to be such a strong advocate for the work of psycho-oncologists. Typically in the field of childhood cancer, the mantra of many organizations and foundations is to raise money for research! Needless to say the insights from our think tank professionals and their kind words have been marvelous for me. As tonight quote points out the SIMPLE (in this case kind words) produces the MARVELOUS!  

This afternoon, I had the opportunity to spend some time with my friend Mary, who lives in an assisted living facility. I try to visit Mary at least once a week, or more, depending upon my schedule. It is hard to see Mary's decline, especially when I think about what she was able to do back in 2009. This was only three years ago. A lot can happen in three years! Mary is basically paralyzed, unable to walk, feed herself, dress herself, read, and the list goes on. However, one of the most profound changes this year is her inability to talk. Yet even without words we manage. Prior to visiting Mary today, I went to visit the 25 year old I wrote about last week. Some of my readers may recall that Mary's former aide has a 25 year old nephew who was in a swimming pool accident. He hit his head in the pool, and this caused him to become paralyzed from the neck down. Because I am so found of Mary's former aide, I went to visit her nephew today and I also met this young man's mom. The mom was almost shocked that someone she did not know would visit her and care about her son. But she invited me to come visit with her any day.

After this visit I then went to visit Catherine. Catherine lives in the room right next door to Mary. I spent a half an hour with Catherine, and just before I left she told me that my presence made her day. Again the SIMPLE produces the MARVELOUS! After all, I brought no gifts, I provided no entertainment, but what I did provide was my time, my listening ear, and friendship. As one of my friends and colleagues reminded me this week..... truly caring and listening to a friend are rare gifts. So maybe in the end these things I provided to Catherine may be deemed by some to be un"simple!" But to me they come naturally and at the end of the day, knowing I provided support to someone who needed it makes me feel better about myself.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2007, nine months before Mattie was diagnosed with cancer. That weekend we took Mattie to Butler's Orchard in Maryland. This was one of our favorite farms to take Mattie to because they took people on a hayride into the pumpkin patches, where children could literally pick pumpkins right off the vine. As you can see, Mattie picked this pumpkin, and actually several others that day. I am not sure what he loved more the pumpkins, the wheelbarrows, or the hayride on a tractor.  


Quote of the day: Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony. ~ Mahatma Gandhi


Gandhi's quote intrigues me because his definition of happiness is something that I can freely accept even in my state of grief. When I reflect on the harmony among what I think, say, and do this makes a great deal of sense to me, rather than the typical definition of happiness, which I have trouble accepting and swallowing. Typically when we think of happiness (going right to Webster's Dictionary) it is defined as "a state of well-being and contentment, joy, or a pleasurable or satisfying experience."

Joy and happiness are NOT words I like anymore. In fact it is very hard after the death of a child to allow these feelings inside. A pervasive sense of guilt comes upon me when I think of them, and chances are if you have used them with me in conversation then you know I have pushed back at you. Do I think Mattie wants Peter and I to be happy? Do I think he would be happy knowing how much we miss him and how profoundly changed our lives are? I don't know, but I do suspect that on September 8, 2009, Mattie did not want to die. He understood on some level that leaving us was unnatural. As his doctor told me, she had to give Mattie propofol to help him die because he did not want to let go. The strength of a seven year old, fighting for his life, is an image that will remain with me forever. Once you heard your child flat line in your arms, finding happiness and joy in life seem impossible.  

As the Foundation activities are taking off, my days are becoming busier. The mental power of balancing activities and tasks has its own challenges. However, in the midst of working, I was greeted by our first shipment of candy for the Foundation's Post-Halloween Candy drive. When I opened the box, this was a sight for sore eyes. Being a chocolate lover, it takes great discipline not to eat it myself. But I am happy to report that no chocolate was lost last year from my consumption. Much thanks Maria for this wonderful delivery. A delivery that will make families of hospitalized children VERY happy!


 

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in February of 2009. The first thing you probably see was Mattie's goofy face. In the midst of pain, fear, treatment, and chaos, we did have our funny moments, and this was indeed one of them. Mattie was creating a house out of popsicle sticks and had his trusty glue gun with him! In fact, prior to Mattie I never used a glue gun in my life. It was through Mattie, that I got my excellent glue gun training. I learned from the master.





Quote of the day: Behold the turtle. He makes progress only when he sticks his neck out. ~ James Bryant Conant


This is a cute quote, but on a day like today, it is so meaningful. My friend Heidi connected me with a friend of hers who is a professional fundraiser. I am not a fundraiser by any stretch of the imagination, and asking for money is not my strong suit. So in essence having to learn to do this is like a turtle coming out of its shell! Nonetheless, for the good of the Foundation, I have been learning to stick my neck out, because without funds, I know we would be unable to support the psychosocial needs of children and their families with cancer.

Peter and I met with Jen today and chatted about our Foundation's Walk. As most of my readers know, we host a Foundation Walk each May. This tradition was started by Team Mattie, a group of committed people who met our every care need when Mattie was battling cancer, and even months after his death. To me the Walk is so symbolic of this amazing group of people, people who banded together to plan a fun event for Mattie. An event where he could see how many people loved and supported him. For three years now, after Mattie's death, we have continued the Walk tradition. Yet with each subsequent Walk, I realize that our attendance dwindles. Fortunately the attendance dwindles, but not the funding. But attendance is crucial to generate awareness, energy behind the cause, and of course to continue to build our support network. So with that said, we are now looking into having a 5K walk/run and family festival in May. Big changes are afoot and right now I have more questions and logistical concerns than anything else. Stay tuned as plans unfold.

 

I wanted to share this picture with you tonight. I took it this morning. I have noticed the past several days that Patches spends her time on Mattie's pine chest. In fact, if you look closely you can see "pinkie" and "blue boy" right next to her head. These two wooden characters were used many a time during Mattie's play therapy sessions in the Hospital. Blue Boy was good and Pinkie was a rebel. These characters helped Mattie communicate how he was feeling and the play scenarios he concocted were incredible. Yet I find it fascinating that Patches would choose to sit on Mattie's wooden boat and wooden chest. I can't imagine this was comfortable. Patches actually spends a great deal of time in Mattie's room and I firmly believe she grieves in her own way.
 

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Tuesday, October 16, 2012 -- Mattie died 162 weeks ago today.

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2008. Mattie went to his buddy Campbell's house and as you can see enjoyed a wonderful Halloween cookie. Mattie met Campbell in kindergarten and they became very close friends. Watching Mattie and Campbell play together was always a treat because they both loved to build and create, and had wonderful imaginations. Their imaginative play was a sight to see. A playdate for them was always active and never involved the TV or electronics. In many ways their type of play was very unique and rare to see in today's day and age, where electronic stimulation has almost replaced the imagination that we had to have as children growing up. I will always remember the play and friendship between this duo fondly.



Quote of the day: When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too. ~ Paulo Cohelo


Tonight's quote seems quite apropo considering the hospital meeting I just attended. At the hospital, I serve on a parent advisory board. This is my third year on this board and I joined it in hopes of making a difference in the lives of children and families at the hospital. Keep in mind that I am the only parent on the board who lost a child, and I do think this impacts my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. At times it is hard knowing that Mattie did not survive, and I am the only bereaved parent in this group. Yet the members of the board are wonderful and committed individuals who are passionate about helping and making a difference. Which is a great motivator for me! This brings me to tonight's quote. Our board is guided by love and compassion. We unite together every month with the goal of making the lives better for those in crisis, and though this is a noble cause, I am well aware of the fact that money talks. Some parent boards raise money for the hospital and these boards get more attention, notice, and respect than let's say the board I am on. What a screwed up society we are, a society where money talks louder almost than good deeds. It is vital when confronted with skewed priorities (individual versus a system), that we stay committed to our convictions. It is easy to get down and upset by this lack of respect and value we are given for our service, but in the end we must see that our vision is based out of love, and love will inspire us to make the system better for children and parents who have to use it.

When I entered the hospital tonight I was literally hit with an incredible antiseptic smell. Naturally I have been to the hospital all summer long, but it is ironic that tonight the smell absolutely hit me, or I should say brought me right back to July of 2008. I truly believe that grief is a sensory experience, it impacts our sight, hearing, touch, and smell. As tonight's experience illustrates, certain smells can evoke memories, and naturally not all memories are loving and happy. The smell triggered my memory of our times in the hospital, that was the first affront. Then the second affront was visual, I had a heightened awareness that I was walking down the stark white hallway of the hospital, a hallway I walked many times with Mattie. In essence, it was like reliving the battle all over again. I haven't had a reaction like this in quite some time, so my feelings caught me off guard. However, in tonight's meeting, Mattie's sedation nurse angel, Debbi, was there, and some how her presence helped in ways I can't quite describe.

Some of you know I have been working on a craft project in the midst of everything else I am doing. I took on this project because I just wanted to. Though these are fall colors, they are most definitely Mattie colors. Basically I bought a beautiful ceramic pumpkin shaped bowl, filled it with Styrofoam, and designed a floral display with silk flowers, silk leaves, and orange gourds. I love sunflowers, so as you can see they are well represented here.

 

Monday, October 15, 2012

Monday, October 15, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2008. Mattie was in the hallway of the pediatric units participating in a chemistry club experiment. The Georgetown University Chemistry Club came to entertain and educate the kids on Fridays, and Mattie looked forward to these visits. The Club's president at the time was named, Chris, and Mattie and Chris got along splendidly. As you can see, Mattie was wearing a sock on his hand, to protect it so that he could hold and play with this giant bubble made out of dry ice and bubble solution. Mattie's face showed his fascination with the entire process.


Quote of the day: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality. ~ Plutarch

I do think how we are feeling inwardly greatly impacts our exterior reality. I am physically not feeling great today, and this most definitely impacted my whole outlook for the day. I worked away on Foundation items this morning and then midday took a break. I went to visit one of my favorite stores, AC Moore, and began a craft project. Not anything that really needed to be done, but sometimes having such diversions are helpful and necessary. Of course as I go into AC Moore, I realize there are so many things in the store that would have appealed to Mattie. As a mom you get used to shopping for your child, and when Mattie was alive, I typically always picked him up a little something if I was out and about. It just was a natural thing to do, because I was thinking of him and enjoyed seeing his reaction to different items. With his creativity, he always found multiple ways to use whatever I brought home for him. In a way, it takes great discipline to shop now, because a part of me wants to pick out a Mattie item. But then I realize there would be no point to this. However, even shopping is a reminder of the loss Peter and I have to contend with on a daily basis.

Another aspect that I see within myself is my hesitation to buy anything for myself. I remember having this feeling soon after Mattie died. But that feeling has been resurrected again. I think after Mattie died I was too stunned to do anything, but now before I buy something I begin to think.... what is the point? To some extent whatever I have stays with me, or I should say dies with me, since it is not something that Mattie can use or that will get passed down to him. In many ways, our family line ends with Peter and I, and this is a humbling and scary notion. We all like to think that we leave a generation behind to carry on the traditions of one's family, and the reality of Mattie's loss has huge implications for us. Which is why on some days I absolutely need to turn to flowers and crafts, these are beautiful diversions needed to help me refocus and re-engage with others and the world around. In essence these things allow me to feel as if I am contributing to something bigger than myself.   

 

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2008. Mattie and his big buddy, Brandon, were in the Child Life Playroom at the Hospital. These two buddies were at least ten years apart in age, and yet they connected and helped each other in numerous ways. The structure sitting in front of them in this photo was a Mattie and Brandon creation. A creation made out of LOTS of popsicle sticks. Mattie was the ultimate builder. He could work with just about any material and always found a way to make it structurally sound. A real gift!


Quote of the day: Don't be content in your life just to do no wrong. Be prepared every day to try to do some good. ~ Nicholas Winton


On certain occasions I have the opportunity to see not only children who are Mattie's age (if he were alive today), but children who knew Mattie and were actually friends with him. This is a challenging position to be in, which is why I have talked to other moms who have also lost a child to cancer and asked them how they handle and feel about such a situation. Believe it or not, there is NO standard answer. Some of us feel good to see our child's friends, because they connect us to our loss, and others find this beyond overwhelming and sad. Of course there are also feelings that lie all along the continuum. I am not sure where I am with this, and frankly I think it depends on the day. Since I know my reaction could be different based on my own vulnerabilities, needs, and how I am feeling physically and emotionally.

This afternoon, I had the opportunity to see one of Mattie's closest friends, Zachary. Mattie and Zachary were practically inseparable in preschool, in fact, for them it was like friendship at first sight. They met on the first day of school, and were instantly drawn to each other. Over the two years they were in preschool together, Mattie and Zachary spent a great deal of time together after school. They spent so much time playing that I would say other than my own child, Zachary became a close second for me. I knew his highs and lows, his preferences, and his likes and dislikes. Yet Zachary and I haven't spent much time together naturally since Mattie died from cancer. Yet when I saw Zachary in a group setting today with other kids, I could just sense we related to each other. Words weren't necessary, it was just a camaraderie we share because of our times together. Others may not have felt it, or even observed it, but I sensed it immediately. I could see it based on his checking in with me and looking to me for approval as to what he was doing. 

This interaction really came at the right time in my life, because there are days and moments when I worry about forgetting that I was a mom. One's mind can play tricks on you in grief, and as more time goes by, I wonder if I ever really was a mom. Seeing Zachary today answered that doubt, because in his own subtle way (and unintentionally, which is the beauty of this) he reminded me that I was a mom, Mattie's mom, and we will always have a connection with each other because of their amazing bond.