Friday, August 20, 2010

Friday, August 20, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in July of 2002, at Mattie's baptism, three months after he was born,. Father Jim Greenfield baptized Mattie. Jim and I go back a ways since we met each other at the George Washington University. Jim was the priest overseeing the University's Newman Center. He gave me my first clinical client, he gave Peter and I Pre-Cana (a process to prepare to be married in the Catholic church), he baptized Mattie, and he even presided over Mattie's funeral. All of this happened in a very short period of time. When I look at Mattie's baptism picture it is truly impossible to believe that Mattie is gone from our lives. He was full of energy, life, and spirit that day. Jim allowed us to have a private baptism for Mattie, so this sacrament wasn't part of a regular church mass. When Jim was pouring water on Mattie's head, Mattie literally smiled! Jim said that was a first for him. I remember picking out Mattie's outfit and it is hard to understand how such a healthy baby has died so young.

Poem of the day: Heart and Mind by Charlie Brown


Could I stop thinking of you?
Somehow that doesn't seem right.
Memories of who you were,
Fill the spaces of my day and night.
Whenever you are not on my mind,
I think it is guilt that I feel.
And sometimes I can't believe you're gone,
Truthfully, that just doesn't seem real.
While I know that you're gone
And you will never return,
That's a lesson my heart,
Just can't seem to learn.
Maybe inside I hope,
If my life is so tough,
Somehow G-d will say,
She's suffered enough.
And then send you back,
To where you belong.
I know that can't happen,
But I'd like to be wrong.
So until my heart learns,
What's known by my mind.
I guess I will keep searching,
For what I can't find.

Two particular sentences in tonight's poem have caught my attention... "Somehow God will say, she's suffered enough. And then send you back, to where you belong." If only it was that easy to allow God to see one suffering so much, that in the process God would grant us peace. In our case the peace to have Mattie back with us. Despite my intense feelings and pain, I am very aware of the fact that I am not the only one in the world suffering. There are many others who may feel like I do over a loss, or an illness, a psychological issue, financial hardship, divorce, the impact of serving in the military, and the list goes on. I hope it is clear to my readers that as I write each night, I am not claiming the cornerstone on pain, and regardless of my circumstances, I try to be sensitive to what others have and continue to go through.

However, with all that said, I find that I am going through a very difficult point in the grief process now. It is when I hit this point, I wonder when and if I will ever be able to pull out of it. It is scary at times, with no end in sight or hopes for brighter days ahead. I am not sure what triggered this, perhaps coming back from vacation, back to the reality of our surroundings and our life.

I was focused on seeing Ann and her cousin, JP, today. In fact, knowing that JP wanted to see me, motivated me to get up and pull it together. In a few short hours we accomplished a lot together, and in the process we also got to see Mary, Ann's mom today. Mary told me she was worried about me, but was happy to see me. Mary had many visitors today between her grandchildren and friends, and she was soaking it all in. What is evident though is that visiting Mary not only perks her up, but it also perks up her fellow residents. It is wonderful to see them smile or try to engage with you and on days like today I can't help but feel frustrated. I am frustrated because I know at one point all these residents were vibrant people, and yet to see them stricken into their current state is very sobering. Frankly I think a visit to a hospital and a nursing care facility are mandatory exercises for our younger generation. So much can be learned about the fragility and beauty of life by helping others in this capacity and in turn we learn more about ourselves than we thought even imaginable.

This afternoon, I went to the airport to pick up my parents who were returning from Copenhagen. They had a wonderful trip, but they both came home quite ill. They are naturally on another time zone, and that did not help how they were feeling either. Once I got them settled, I mobilized into action and made hot tea and homemade chicken soup. When Peter came home from work, he jumped right in to help me, and together we made a wonderful soup. Before dinner, Peter and I sat outside together and chatted and tried to recapture the time we had at the beach. Uninterrupted time, time to connect and talk.

Over soup and dinner, we got to hear about my parent's trip. Naturally they were exhausted, so I am sure we will continue to hear more over this next week. But they bestowed on me a beautiful set of nesting dolls from St. Petersburg. They are a true work of art, and I put them near Mattie's music box (which hold his ashes). I think Mattie would have loved these nesting dolls and found them very whimsical.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "Unfortunately, we are not in control of our lives. We may make decisions but ultimately, what happens to us is beyond our ability to control. All any of us can do is to realize that the time we have here is limited and try to use it the best we can given our gifts/talents/interests and our limitations. I believe the key to you finding satisfaction in your life is to retake an "inventory" of your talents and interests (and you are one of the brightest, most talented people I have ever met) and find a way to use those going forward. If not thinking about Mattie brings you guilt, then consciously dedicate any project you are about to embark upon to him; make him a part of the things you decide to do. Whether it is work with your hands, like gardening or creating something for one of Ann's children, or whether it is writing or"mindwork," dedicate it to Mattie and then do it to the best of your ability. Bring his memory to you, and then do the things you need to do. Perhaps you can even come up with something that represents Mattie for you and find a way to incorporate it into what you do. Adding a butterfly to a design, or a car or a "circle" over the "i" representing the moon when you sign your name. It can be anything meaningful to you and it can add Mattie's memory to anything you do. I have had to take my practice alone this week due to meetings and I miss the energy that the group generates for me; I encourage you to continue to make yoiur connections to friends and family for the same reason. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2009. Mattie was riding the famous, Speedy Red! My parents got Mattie Speedy Red, because they knew this was something he had always wanted. Because Mattie became terminal right after treatment, Mattie was never able to have his 'Make A Wish' Foundation wish granted. So at the end of his life, we were scrambling to give him something special, and a moment of happiness. Those moments were too few and precious toward the end. In the beginning, I rode on Speedy Red with Mattie, but after one or two drives around, he got the idea of a gas pedal and brake immediately. He also got the concept of steering, and was an excellent driver. So despite the fact that Mattie had a central line, in which he was hooked up to pain meds, and was wearing an oxygen cannula attached to an oxygen tank, I allowed Mattie the freedom to drive around on his own. It took a great deal of courage to step out of that car, and to give Mattie this space, but I am glad I did it. Driving Speedy Red made him happy, and I try to cling to those memories now. Some parents have the joy of watching and teaching their children to drive. Peter and I have been deprived that developmental milestone as well, but we will always have Speedy Red. Which may be why parting with Speedy Red isn't happening any time soon.

Poem of the day: Day to Day by Charlie Brown


My sorrow is nearly constant,
Day to day to day.
And yet, if I look back
Over the past months
A gently upward slope appears.
So fragile is this path
That I scarcely want to
Acknowledge its existence,
For fear that it
Will crumble beneath my feet.
I know the path back to joy
Is rambling and filled
With ups and downs.
And the only safety rails
Are the prayers and hopes
Of my family and friends.
Day to day I cannot see
Many changes in my grief.
But I have to believe this path
Eventually leads to a brighter sky
Reflecting the light of your memory.


Tonight's poem, Day to Day, reflects quite well how I feel on a daily basis. However, as time moves forward, do I see an "upward slope appear," as the poem so aptly points out? Well the answer may be yes, but I am not sure. In the beginning of my grief journey, I would say I was absolutely numb and quite closed off to most feelings. With time, some of the protective shell that I established to survive has cracked and at other times the shell is completely peeled away. However, for the most part, my true feelings of loss and grief over Mattie are quite private. Sure I write on the blog each day, but I certainly do not write the full picture of my highs and lows on such a public forum. What I will admit however, is that time isn't healing for me. Certainly the pain may not be as raw, but the feelings of sadness I carry with me each day hasn't disappeared. In addition to sadness, there is also guilt. Guilt that I am still here and guilt that I would take my mind and heart off of Mattie for a little bit each day. That may sound healthy to those of you reading the blog, but for a mother to admit that, it doesn't feel good or natural. Because what mother caring for a child can block out her child in any given day? A mom may be engaged in work and other tasks, but somewhere in the back of her mind is the thought of her child. What happens when this child is no longer alive?! Where do those caring thoughts go to? Not being able to think about Mattie each and every day is the first sign to me that my mind knows he is no longer with me. I am no longer performing my mom role, and that begs the bigger question, why? Accepting Mattie's loss means also facing guilt head on, and I find these days I am battling grief and guilt and together they are a powerful combination.

Peter and I left Bethany Beach around noon today. We definitely came home with more than we left with. I am not sure if it was the notion of leaving or coming home, but I wasn't myself on the car trip home. Thankfully the beach is only three hours away, because I couldn't have managed to be trapped in the car for another second longer. When we got home we had many chores to do, but one thing I was happy to see is our garden managed quite well. Peter created a sprinkler system for the garden that went off on a timer twice a day while we were gone. I am so happy he did this, because everything looks so green and happy. I spent some time outside with my flowers today, and I was very grateful that Peter made dinner. The thought of that task wasn't appealing at all to me.

On Friday, I will have the opportunity to see Ann and her cousin, JP, before I head to the airport to pick up my parents, who are flying back from their overseas vacation. I spoke to JP tonight, and I got to hear about his adventures today and what he wants to do tomorrow when I see him. Returning home is met with its own challenges, which in a way have made me feel like retreating. However, I am focused upon knowing that Ann's cousin is looking forward to seeing me and then the fact that my parents will be arriving at the airport and are expecting to see me there. So again, I take it one day at a time.

I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I hoped you would have better weather and be able to enjoy the beach before you packed up to leave, but it seems as though in spite of the weather, you made it an adventure and went out anyway. It's easy to see that Mattie got his determination from you and Peter and I know he would have made the most of the time and perhaps even found a way to enjoy all the water in the streets. I can see him with one of his ships, taking advantage of the opportunity to be Captain Mattie in a place where normally there is no lake. As you said, all the feelings are mixed in every experience you have. Tears mix with laughter and joy is tinted with sadness at the sights of children playing. I can only hope that as time goes on the burden of grief lifts and lets you enjoy more of the simple joys of life. Although you said you were not sure that G-d was with you on your walks along the beach, I hear his presence in that still, small voice that tells you, "You are needed" and gives you courage to get up and try to face each day. As you head home to DC, I wish you a safe journey and that you might see some positive reminders of Mattie's presence. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

The second message is from one of Mattie's babysitters and our friend, Emily. Emily wrote, "Mattie and I shared so many laughs and special times that replay in my mind constantly. Every time the Lion King on Broadway advertisement plays on TV, I immediately think of him. I will NEVER forget the moment when "Can You Feel The Love Tonight" was playing and Mattie grabbed my hand. I had tears in my eyes watching him hold my hand, and remember tapping Adam so he, too, could see the genuine love this child had to give. The funny part was once Mattie caught me staring at him and not the show he whispered, "Emily! You're not watching!!" I laughed, but I remember crying inside hoping that this would not be the last time I would be able to hold his sweet hand. (Unfortunately, it was...and I replay that night over and over hoping for comfort).I hope you know that his memory is forever in my heart and mind, and my love and support for you and Peter is forever. If you ever visit NYC, please let me know because we would love to see you. I miss you and Peter very much. All my love always."

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2006. It was taken by Emily, one of Mattie's favorite babysitters. Emily lived in our complex and was getting her Master's degree in counseling at the time. Mattie loved Emily, and he really enjoyed his trip to her apartment. He clearly loved one of her chairs, and most likely Emily photographed Mattie in one of his playful moments.

Poem of the day: Footprints in the Sand by Mary Stevenson

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?"
The Lord replied,
"The times when you have
seen only one set of footprints,
is when I carried you."

Based on last night's blog, where I reported that Peter thinks he is walking on the beach with the "invisible woman," Charlie sent me the poem, Footprints in the Sand. I have read this poem many times before, and it is a very touching and spiritual poem. I am not sure if God is walking with us along the beach these last few days, but I was touched by the meaning that Charlie was trying to attach to our special walks in which both of us were walking side by side, and yet only one set of footprints could be seen!

It started raining at the beach last night. A torrential rain like I haven't experienced before, and basically a rain that kept on coming throughout the day. It was my hope on our last vacation day that we could spend it by the beach, but that wasn't meant to be. By noon time, Peter and I decided to venture out and we drove to the town of Bethany Beach. I snapped some pictures of the incredible flooding around us. Keep in mind that this flooding was caused from ONLY one day of rain, but since many of the beach communities do not have storm drains, water accumulates quickly.   

This was the incredible view I observed through our windshield while Peter was driving to the town. Some streets were barricaded off because they were impassable. Others were simply entertaining to navigate. But we got into town and many other people were there trying to escape the weather and make the best out of the storm.

As we were walking around town, we stopped at several shops. One shop that I wanted to go into, never happened. In order to get into the store, I would have had to wade through at least four to six inches of water. I deemed no shop was worth that adventure. However, while Peter was taking this picture, I was watching some young boys jumping into this lake, which was once a street. They were having a good time, and it was a sight to see.

Later in the day when we got back to Ellen's house we decided to go for, a walk on the beach. I don't normally travel with a rain jacket but borrowing Ellen's made this walk possible. As you can see, the only ones nutty enough to walk in this wind and rain were Peter and I, and two seagulls in the background. Even the life guards left the beaches.



At some point today, Ann called me and we chatted and I also had the opportunity to talk with her cousin, JP, as well as her mom (Mary), who was spending the day at Ann's house. When I got on the phone with Mary, her first comment to me was I, "miss you." Mary wanted to know how I was feeling and that she was thinking of me and wanted to tell me some things. Unfortunately it is sometimes hard to connect with Mary on the phone, but I got enough from the call to understand that I am on her mind. I connected with Toni, Brandon's mom, today as well, and there is one conclusion I have come to regarding Mary, Toni, and myself. We are all moms who loved/love our sons who have been touched by cancer. Somehow cancer is a unifying factor, regardless of our age differences or our geographical distances. In some respects we understand each other immediately and it is nice to be understood with all our ups and downs.

As tonight is our last night at the beach, I am feeling mixed emotions about leaving. As Peter knows nothing is ever simple with me. Before dinner we walked through Ellen's community, and spotted bunnies (seeking shelter in the rain), and also saw many children outside playing. We saw children on bicycles, tricycles,  playing ball, and just having a good time. It was a wonderful sight and also a painful one at the same time. So the next time you will be hearing from me, I will be back in Washington, DC, with all the stresses that our post-Mattie world brings us. Not that the beach was an escape per se, but seeing trees, flowers, birds, and ocean were very good for us.

I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I know I am grateful that Brandon continues to be "no evidence of disease" and I am sure the other blog readers are as well. I will continue to pray that whatever is causing the weight loss is innocuous and stops soon. Those are lovely pictures of your niece and nephews; they look to be full of energy and enthusiasm. I am sure it is difficult for them to understand (as it is for us all) why Mattie died. As you said, children process grief differently from adults and they seem to incorporate it all into their lives and their beings in a much more realistic way. They move into and out of grief and they understand that one cannot and should not be "stuck" in one way of feeling but are open to it all. They may be sad and cry for a while and then go off and do something else. They may invite the spirit of the departed to join them in play or they may tell you how much they miss their friend or family member. If children sense we are accepting, they are very open about how they feel and this is something we adults could definitely learn from. I am glad you and Peter enjoyed your time at the beach and that it was long enough for you to relax some and enjoy your time together. Hopefully, you can do it again in the not too distant future as the ocean seems to be very healing for you. I hold you gently in my thoughts today and hope you enjoy your remaining time in Delaware."

The second message is from my friend and colleague, Nancy. Nancy wrote, "In the Jewish religion, we have a prayer said when someone we care about is ill. This is during the time that our Torah (bible) is read. I used to include Mattie's name when I went to synagogue. I would like to add Brandon's name to my prayer. What is his last name? Please let Toni know that others send their hopes for No Evidence of Disease to continue. May they find a simple reason for Brandon losing weight. I wish it worked all the time as we all wanted Mattie to get better. I remember an earlier picture of Sydney, Nat, and Will with Mattie. They are beautiful and growing like weeds. It was lovely that Lisa called and despite the weather you were all able to have a visit. Seeing their faces must have been a mixed blessing, glad to see them having fun and feeling Mattie should be there too. Maybe he was! You did say that you saw toads and had unexpected fire works.Thanks for all the wonderful descriptions of Bethany and Ocean City beaches. They are two areas that friends have talked about and we haven't seen yet, in person. Now we will add them to our list. I know that you are having your last day at the beach. I am glad that you had this time together. Connections are medicine for healing. Each of you seems to bring a strength for the other.Peter, I'm glad that Vicki got to laugh a bit as it seemed that her headaches were back for a few days, too. As we get older, I think, nature does become a special awareness. It gives the soul a chance to rest and focus on the important areas of life, like love, compassion, sharing, gratitude. Not that we may not have them within our daily lives, however, living in a city does take great imagination for the quiet of water, trees, plants, and creatures. I just had a flash of Mattie and his creatures."

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Tuesday, August 17, 2010 -- Mattie died 48 weeks ago today.

Tonight, as we remember Mattie, who has been gone from our lives for 11 months or 48 weeks, his spirit, energy, and joy for life seems captured in this picture. I snapped this picture in my parent's living room in California in March of 2003. Mattie was 11 months old and this was his first trip across the country. Mattie proved to be a very good traveler, handled planes better than I do, and he simply loved an adventure. In this respect he was his father's son!

Poem of the day: Gifts by Charlie Brown


Some days missing you is soft
It's that quiet, gentle ache.
But sometimes it is hard
My whole world seems to shake.
I didn't see how I'd cope
Or how I could get through,
Each of the past 11 months
That I've spent missing you.
But when you had to leave
You left gifts behind,
A new appreciation for life
And people who've been so kind.
I do appreciate them all
Birds, animals and even bugs.
But I would trade every one
For one more of your hugs.

I wanted to let me readers know that I heard from Toni today. Toni is Brandon's mom, and as so many of you know, Brandon was Mattie's big buddy at the Hospital. Brandon got all of his blood work back today, and his news is very positive. He is No Evidence of Disease, but he will need to be monitored weekly because he continues to lose weight, which is naturally a concern. When I spoke to Toni last week, I immediately understood her fears and concerns. Once your child has been diagnosed with cancer, it is very hard to not live in fear. Every physical symptom brings about panic, and of course the first thing to pop into one's mind is that the cancer is back. As Toni went through Mattie's battle with me, she saw first hand that after being off of chemotherapy for six weeks, Mattie's cancer not only returned but returned with a vengeance. I can only imagine how Toni feels about Brandon being off of chemotherapy for a year and a half. Being on chemo isn't pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but chemo in some ways gives you a false peace of mind. Because these toxic drugs make you think you are actively fighting the cancer, and on chemo you feel safer. Once your child is off of chemo, you live on the edge, waiting, hoping, and struggling. Struggling to try to live a "normal" life again, but in all reality as I say to Toni all the time, neither one of us will ever be normal again.

My sister-in-law, Lisa, is visiting her good friend this week at a neighboring beach. So today she visited with us, and we got to see our niece, Sydney, who is 12, and our nephews, Nat and Will, who are 13 and 9. We had lunch together at the house and then the hope was to go to the beach together. But today was NOT only overcast, it was pouring for a good portion of the day. Nonetheless, we ventured to the beach and as you can see from the pictures, the kids did not seem to mind the wind and the rain at all. In fact, they even went into the water until it started to thunder and lightning!

From left to right is Sydney, Nat, and Will. In many ways I know it is hard for these children to understand what happened to their cousin, Mattie. I think for Will, who is closest to age in Mattie, the whole loss is hard to understand and grasp. Lisa and I talked about how to help children grieve such a loss. The beauty I feel about children is they are very good guides, and we as adults need to take their lead. Unlike adults who sometimes need help processing thoughts and feelings, because we protect ourselves and those around us. I have found from observing Mattie's friends, that children deal with this loss quite differently from us. For them, talking about their friend and bringing up memories are more natural for them, and the best thing we as adults can do is support them in their memories and dialogue when they bring it up. Children do NOT live with grief 24 by 7 as adults do, but because they don't that doesn't mean they aren't clued in and have questions. They most certainly do, and I continue to be impressed with how the parents of Mattie's friends continue to help their children with this loss.

Lisa and her family live in Boston, so we do not get a chance to see each other that often. However, it was very special to receive hugs from our niece and nephews today. As I told them, they give the best hugs! In a way it is hard to believe how much older they are, especially since it seems like yesterday they were just babies. Time seems to have moved so quickly as I watch them mature. I see so many children around me growing up, and yet for me time is stuck at age 7, the age Mattie was when he died. For Mattie, he was robbed of this aging process, and instead experienced things I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

After our family visit was over, Peter and I went out for a drive. We went through Ocean City, MD. People have told us visiting this beach area is an experience, and they were correct. I never ventured out of the car, because it was raining, however, while driving, I became very quiet. Peter knows that is the tell tale sign that something is not right with me. I couldn't articulate what my issue was, so I remained quiet. When we got back to Ellen's house, I took Katharina's blanket with me, and went to sit outside on a chair. I listened to the ocean and the birds and fell asleep. When I woke up, my headache felt better, and though fatigued, I was in a somewhat better mood.

Peter and I had dinner outside, and then we went for a walk on the beach. Along our walk, we saw toads and even fireworks. It was all special sightings. There isn't much anymore that brings me joy, but seeing the ocean still makes me happy. I love the sight, the smells, and the sounds! In fact, as tomorrow approaches, which is our last full day at the beach, I am saddened to be leaving. Peter and I have developed our own routine here and a great deal of it involves being outside and walking, and appreciating the ocean. While walking with Peter by the ocean the past two days, he has gotten me to laugh. Particularly over our footprints in the sand. After we walk a bit, Peter has me turn around to figure out which prints are his and which ones are mine. Peter's are discernible, but we can never find mine. Peter's joke is he is walking with the invisible woman. I can't explain where my prints are, because clearly I am walking beside him, but it is eerie! Needless to say, it is a mystery that makes me laugh!

While writing tonight's blog, Ann called me. We chatted a while, and then her cousin, JP, came on the phone. Apparently JP enjoys talking to me, and likes to connect with me each day he is visiting Ann. I find it very sweet and touching, and he is looking forward to seeing me on Friday when I return to DC. Naturally returning from a vacation is NOT easy for me, and going home signals my return to being directionless and being without Peter by day. But because JP is so motivated to see me, it helps me redirect my focus. It is funny how another person can influence your life in such a way.

I would like to end tonight's posting with three messages. The first message is from Mattie's oncologist and our friend, Kristen. Kristen wrote, "Just a note to let you both know I am thinking of you on this Tuesday and everyday. We went to the Jersey Shore over the weekend to visit with friends and as a result I am a few days behind on the blog. I hope you found some peace and a moment of true rest while you were at the beach... Much love and many thoughts."

The second message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "It seems as though this time away has been what you and Peter needed. The opportunity to connect with others when you are up to it and the choice to be alone when you are not. However, I have to say I am glad that you are making the effort to spend time with others as much as you can. Grief won't go away with time; you will always remember and ache for those missed opportunities, those things that Mattie won't get to do but you are doing what should be done in situations like this; you are growing, learning, and connecting and thereby honoring Mattie's time here in the most important ways. I don't think it is strange that your picture taking has shifted from Mattie who is no longer here to taking pictures of nature. When children are with us, our focus is more immediate and they fill our "view screen"; sometimes you even see things in the background of the picture you did not notice when you pushed the button. Without a child as the focus of the picture you look farther out and your view is more expansive. I think this evolution naturally happens as we age but yours has come much too soon. You are certainly thought about daily (and sometimes much more often) by many of us; thank you for the reminder that it is important not just to think about someone but to actually reach out as well. I hold you and Peter gently in my thoughts."

The third message is from my friend and colleague, Nancy. Nancy wrote, "Today, another Tuesday, marks a crossroad. Charlie and I each discuss the end of your first year without Mattie. I'm sure others do too. The Brown family has created a safe haven for many families. I know that you didn't want it to happen this way. Unfortunately, each of us encounters times when we get something we don't wish for or we are challenged to close a door when we want it to stay open. I know that you are struggling with what is in store for you next. Charlie's poem, Messages, was poignant. Her reference to hope, intense pain, confusion, joy, along with guilt and scars, you have experienced all of these. And, you still reach out to others and share a part of yourself. This is a special gift. One that Mattie learned too. As your heart heals a bit more, I believe you will find your answer. I pray that Peter and you had a day with beauty and calm. With love always and in all ways."

YOU ARE MY INSPIRATION by Nancy Heller Moskowitz

The world is filled with amazing things,
Butterflies, stars, a beautiful sun or moon,
All capture a piece of my time with you.
However, nothing brings me as much emotion,
As a memory.
You, my little boy,
A treasure, a challenge, an engaging soul.
I wrestle with my thoughts,
Of how to be each day.
Then grief reaches out to touch me,
An emotion, I'd gladly give away.
For grief keeps joy from brimming,
From my head down to my toes,
I knew it once. I hope it shows,
The road to follow, once again.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Monday, August 16, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2003. This was Mattie's first trip to California, at 11 months old. Mattie's first plane trip was an experience, because in typical Mattie fashion he did not SLEEP at all. In fact, for a portion of the flight, he and I were literally on the floor by our seats playing with toys. This picture was taken at one of my favorite gardens in Los Angeles, Huntington Library's Gardens in Pasadena. As you can see Mattie's favorite mode of transportation was on Peter's back. Prior to the back pack, being mobile with Mattie was challenging. He did not like the motion of strollers and despised being in any sort of baby carrier. In fact, with Mattie, I came to love four things, and never wanted to part with them. They were the keys to our survival with him! They were his entertainment saucer, his Graco jumper which attached to the threshold of any door, his walker (aka, tot wheels), and the back pack!


Poem of the day: Messages by Charlie Brown

Sometimes the message comes in "code"
Sometimes it comes in "clear"
Maybe I'm just imagining it
That at times you seem so near.
When I walk the beach
And look up at the stars,
I find that I have hope
I can heal without too many scars.
But at others times I'm saddened
And I feel so all alone,
Then the grief seems unbearable
And my heart and soul just moan.
This year of mourning is ending
But there is no end to my grief
Sometimes I think I'm conquering it
But then I'm blown just like a leaf.
At what point can I be happy,
Can I find joy in my life?
Without the grief and the guilt,
That cut just like a knife.
People say you'd want me to be happy,
To find a way to go on without you.
In my mind I know you would,
But my heart can't yet admit that's true.

I believe Charlie's poem entitled, Messages, speaks volumes. I do look toward nature and my environment to keep connected with Mattie. I see messages or codes in butterflies, birds, stars, and now talking seagulls! Actually as I write this, it sounds hysterical, and if I wasn't of sound mind, I would really wonder about what I am writing. But losing Mattie has left me grasping at straws sometimes. Charlie is correct, this year of mourning is coming to an end in calendar date ONLY, because there is NO end to our grief. We carry it and wear it where ever we go. Sometimes you can see it, but most times, it is an internal scar you can't see, I can only feel it deeply.

Peter and I drove to Lewes, Delaware today. Lewes is the FIRST city in the FIRST State. It is a charming and sleepy town filled with history and shops. While on our drive, I saw this huge wind turbine in a beautiful field. The turbine is part of the University of Delaware, but it wasn't a sight I was expecting to see. I found myself fascinated with it, and was compelled to take a picture of it. I then googled this sighting tonight and here is what I found out:

The University of Delaware and Gamesa Technology Corporation joined forces to install a utility-scale 2-megawatt (2-MW) wind turbine at UD’s Hugh R. Sharp Campus in Lewes. The joint venture, First State Marine Wind, is a partnership between UD-owned Blue Hen Wind and Gamesa USA. This partnership came about because of synergies that emerged from wind research being conducted at UD’s College of Earth, Ocean, and Environment and College of Engineering, the State of Delaware’s interest in offshore wind, the City of Lewes’ interest in innovative energy opportunities, and Gamesa’s interest in improving its understanding of the effects of marine conditions such as salt spray on turbine coatings, corrosion, and avian impacts.

This afternoon, Peter and I met up with our friend, Tamra and her family. We met at a restaurant in Lewes called the Buttery, which had lovely Victorian charm. Today was Meredith's (one of Tamra's daughters) 17th birthday. Peter and I are very fond of Meredith and her sister, Louise. These young women were very generous with their time when Mattie was sick, they would visit him, bring him creative and special gifts, and when we were home between hospitalizations, they would come over to play with Mattie so that Peter and I could get a minute to recharge our sanity. As I told Meredith today, Peter and I will never forget their kindness and the moments they had with Mattie. Such thoughtfulness and humanness doesn't go unnoticed with me, and this helps to explain why these women have a special place in my heart. Lunch was lovely, and we sat outside on the veranda of the restaurant. I thought it was charming, and Peter was a good sport, especially since he isn't a hot weather fan like I am. I guess what today's lunch illustrated to me was the friendships Mattie helped to create for me. We talked to Tamra about friendships and my philosophy since cancer has changed the way I look at the world and people. Cancer has made me experience people on a deeper and more intense level. I wish I could have learned this in some other fashion, but I guess I would feel worse if I was writing each night about my loss and had to reveal that I haven't learned anything from all of this, that with Mattie's death, my heart and mind also died. To some extent there are days that I do feel this way, but then I reach deeply to reflect on who Mattie left behind for me. Some days this simple yet beautiful notion gets me through the day!

After a delightful lunch filled with conversation, I decided to walk around the town and explore the buildings and the shops. It is a small town, so this is VERY doable. Peter retreated to air conditioning for a bit, but then returned outside with me.

Before dinner, Peter and I headed to walk the beach. The sun was out over the water, and everything had a much different feel to it from yesterday's overcast look. Peter snapped a close up on my favorite beach bird, the piping plover. I love these birds, because to me they are like the ballerinas of the bird world. They have long and slender legs, and they move with the utmost grace. 

We returned to the same spot on the beach where we sat yesterday. Certainly there were many other seagulls flying overhead, but I found it absolutely fascinating that while we were sitting watching the waves tonight, a seagull came to sit by us for quite some time. In my mind this was Christobal coming back to say hello. If you think I have lost it with these seagulls, then Peter would agree with you! 

It is funny, on vacation, I used to take pictures of Mattie. Now I land up taking pictures of birds and other sources of nature. Not sure what this all means, other than it gives me something beautiful to look at and concentrate on. However, I do admit that at times I can be funny about this, and I am sure to the average person this may seem odd.

As I was sitting with Peter today, I told him that I remembered how Mattie would call him, "Daddy." I can literally hear it in my head, but that I do not recall so easily how Mattie called out to me. Peter agreed with me that it is more challenging to remember this mainly because Mattie did not usually call out mom or mommy. Like myself, he liked to use cute names for people, and my nickname was "Una Moona." That word or name I can distinctly recall in my head, especially since Mattie had a song about Una Moona that he created and would sing often.

While cooking dinner, I called Ann back. Her cousin, JP, is visiting with her this week, and yesterday while they were driving back from Boston to Virginia, I had the opportunity to chat with them periodically. It was a 12 hour drive, with a ton of traffic. So JP and I had many times to converse along their endless journey. It was touching to hear that JP wanted to talk with me today too, since he got used to our calls yesterday. That brought a smile to my face, as did a text message I received from Mary's (Ann's mom) caregiver today. Mary is concerned about me, the fact that I have been sick for a while, and she wanted me to know she was thinking of me today. What is my point to all of this? I guess the point is as human beings it is vital to feel connected to something and to people, and hearing that I was missed today in some way, was a feeling that reminded me that I am alive.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "It is very hard to get back on "track" once your cycle has been so disrupted. It many take a trip to a specialist who can help you to "reprogram" your body and mind to relax, fall and stay asleep. I know there are sleeping pills available, but you might want to try more natural, self controlled methods first if your situation doesn't improve soon. I am sorry you lost your pictures of the gull but I am sure the entire thing must have been hysterical. I can see you and Peter in my mind's eye, feeding this gull, having him respond to Peter and Peter having a conversation with him. As you said, Mattie would have found this all hysterically funny and I can imagine him telling Abbie, Charlotte and his other friends about it, flapping his arms and making the sounds that Peter and the gull made. I've seen shooting stars and so I understand why you were unsure about whether you had seen one. They are beautiful but they are so quick to pass that it leaves you wondering if you really saw them at all. The stone that you saw in the garden is inscribed truly I think. Those who we have held in our arms for a little while, are held in our arms forever. What a lovely way to memorialize a young soul who left sooner than they should have. And a garden is a perfect place for such a stone; it is a reminder that life can rise again even after a season of barrenness. May your life be able to nourish the new, fragile shoots of joy that you find in your days going forward. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken on April 4, 2005. This is a follow up to last night's picture. At Mattie's third birthday party, we had a college student perform magic tricks, create balloon animals, and  introduce the children to his bunny, Hobbs. As you can see, Mattie just loved Hobbs and was sitting very still so he would not scare the bunny. What you may not be able to see in the picture though was Mattie was listening very carefully to the instructions that Hobb's owner was giving him. Mattie enjoyed hearing about what the bunny liked to eat and how best to pet him.

Poem of the day: Here and There by Charlie Brown

I was out in the world today
But with you gone it's hard to play
So I sat watching those little birds
And hoping that my prayers are heard
That you are somewhere beyond pain
Where only flowers are brought by rain
And that the moon and sun's lights
Fill your new "world" with beautiful sights
But I'm still here in the place
Where you lost your final race
And hoping someday to meet again
In that place far beyond the pain.

Last night Peter and I sat outside on the deck and were able to stare up at the incredible light show in the sky. The sky by the beach is filled with stars for as far as the eye can see. A sight we never can observe in the city! We sat there for at least an hour, at times chatting, but at other times just taking in the glow of our surroundings. Peter did not tell me, but he was clearly waiting for me to see a shooting star. I did see something flash before my eyes, but I told him I thought it was a bird flying by. He did not challenge me on that pronouncement, but most likely he knew that was NO bird. However, the second time I saw this occurrence I realized that what I indeed saw was a shooting star. A first for me. Something that Mattie never had the chance to see, but I know he would have been in awe. Despite having a relaxing day yesterday, I did not have a good night of sleep on Saturday night. This is naturally very frustrating.

This vacation has provided us with many opportunities to reconnect with nature. From the ocean, the moon, the stars, and today..... birds.

Peter and I spent a good portion of the day sitting on the beach. It was another overcast day, and at times there was spitting rain. Nonetheless, it was lovely to hear the sights and sounds of the sea. This weather is right  up Peter's alley, but for me, it is cold. I was most likely the only one on the beach with a fleece jacket on and towels over my legs in lieu of blankets. I packed lunches for us as well, and what I quickly saw was a seagull had adopted Peter. This seagull literally sat with us the entire two hours we were on the beach. Peter at times was squawking at the gull, and I hate to say it but the gull responded back. It was as if they were having a conversation with each other. We took many pictures of "Christobal," the name I gave this particular gull. Why? Because Peter was feeding this gull the lunch I made him, and this gull apparently liked tomato and mozzeralla salad, including basil, and he also loved fresh peaches. So I felt this discerning gull, needed a special name, so I named him Christobal, after Christopher Columbus. Unfortunately while transferring photos from the camera to Peter's computer tonight, I lost all the photos. I was so disappointed because we captured the many wonderful sides of Christobal, and we even snapped a picture of him talking to Peter. That is what I get for not bringing my own computer, but you will have to take my word for it. This interchange was very memorable, and when other seagulls approached us, Christobal had a fit. He would chase other birds away and became very territorial about us. I can only imagine what Mattie's reaction would have been to all of this. He would have loved it and would have told this story for weeks to come!

After dinner, Peter and I went back outside and walked along the beach. After our walk, we sat on the sand for a while and stared at the water. Our friend, Tamra, who is staying at a neighboring beach, emailed me today and let me know she spotted dolphins. So I was motivated to see a dolphin tonight, despite not seeing dolphins the past two times I have visited Bethany Beach. But patience is indeed a virtual. At 7:15pm, I spotted dolphins. These incredible creatures were doing somersaults and truly performing. They were so quick however, that we couldn't capture any of the three we saw on camera. It was a special sight nonetheless. It was such an overcast day, but while we were on the beach tonight, a glimmer of sun came out and shone on the water. It was a magical quality!

For the past two days, Peter and I have been taking a different pathway to get to the beach. On this particular pathway, we pass someone's charming garden. However, what captures my attention in this garden is a stepping stone that reads, "Those we have held in our arms for a little while we hold in our hearts forever." Each time I see this stepping stone, I feel as if it is calling me. I feel it speaks to my personal loss and tonight I came back and googled this quote. It turns out that this stepping stone is a gift that is sold to people who have lost a child. Somehow that doesn't surprise me, and even if I did not know this fact, I feel a real connection to the person living in this house. I understand the pain that they must feel and I am deeply touched by the stone they have outside for all of us to read and reflect upon. It is a stone that I would like to someday incorporate into my own garden.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I appreciate Nancy's poem especially the line about keeing Mattie''s smile like a warm and comforting vest. That's really all we can do is to carry some piece of our loved one with us to comfort us when we are in need. Beyond that we can watch for and appreciate the signs they send us that they are still connected to us and will be there to welcome us home. It's too bad that the beach towns are all madness this weekend but perhaps some peaceful, quiet time is what you need anyway. Please try to relax and enjoy the time; the dues for this have long been paid and both you and Peter gave far more than your share. I agree with Nancy that death is a paradox, it ends suffering for those who are in pain but it brings pain and suffering to those left behind. As I practice today I send you the thought to allow yourself to immerse in the serenity of the natural world and to let it begin to help you heal. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken on April 4, 2005, Mattie's third birthday party! Mattie was in love with the TV show, Blue's Clues. So we had a Blue's Clues party. Mattie helped me with decorations, and we designed a game in which the children were given notebooks, just like on the show, and had to collect clues to figure out what Blue's (the TV dog) wanted to give Mattie for his birthday. I also found this wonderful college student that year, who came over to do magic tricks which included pulling out a live bunny (his pet named Hobbs) out of a hat. Not sure what the kids loved more, the magic tricks or the bunny! Mattie sat on the couch after the show and got to hold and pet Hobbs. That was one of the highlights of his day!

Poem of the day: In My Dream by Charlie Brown

I couldn't hear your voice
I didn't see your face
In my dream I knew it was you
And I kept you in my space.
In my dream I'd won
But in my life I lost.
I fought for you so hard
I would have paid any cost.
I'd give everything I have
To see you or hear your voice.
I know that can no longer be
For cancer took away that choice.
So I will seek you where I can
Perhaps find you in my dreams.
And in the stories of our friends
Immersed in memory's time stream.

Last night, when I finally got to sleep, I actually stayed asleep. This was a first in three weeks. I sure hope this is a trend, because the lack of sleep and non-stop migraine headaches are a very bad combination for me. I had the opportunity to say good-bye to Ellen and Charlotte this morning. We helped them load their luggage into the car and wished them a good time on their vacation. Peter and I are very grateful to Ellen and her family, because I have a feeling if she did not give us her house for the week, we most likely wouldn't have gone away. With the state Peter and I are in, it doesn't make sense to invest time, money, or energy into planning a break. I tried to approach today with a different mindset. Typically no matter where I am, I want to do as much as possible in any particular day. This would also translate down into vacation, where I would want to be active and tour around. But my energy is not what it used to be, like it was before Mattie's cancer. Cancer has taken a toll on me. Now as I watch people jog or bicycle ride, I can only feel an internal ache. An ache which says to me, I no longer have the energy to do this. I hope one day, this feeling will change.

Peter and I had breakfast outside on Ellen's porch. It is cooler today than it was when we were here in July, so being outside is very pleasant and doable for Peter. Trying to connect to the outside on this vacation is very important to me. I am taking every opportunity to listen to the waves crashing onto the shoreline, hearing the seagulls laughing overhead, as well as focusing in on the sounds of the cicadas and the crickets which are out in full glory now. All of these sounds are healing. Needless to say this is a very different vacation, than what I most likely would have done in the past. Peter and I attempted to go into two different towns today, but the weekend traffic was so horrible, and finding parking was virtually impossible that we gave up and came right about to the house. I spent a good portion of the afternoon on Ellen's hammock, outside, listening to the ocean.

It literally took us 45 minutes to commute from one neighboring town to another today, so while Peter was driving back, I fell asleep in the car. He was driving and also massaging my arm, and that put me right out. This cat nap in the car greatly helped my headache. I then proceeded to sit in the hammock and I had Katharina's lavendar blanket wrapped around me. This is the blanket she gave me for my birthday, and it is so soft, it almost begs one to sleep.

Peter went out today and bought fresh red snapper, and tonight we grilled it and I prepared many of the fresh vegetables we bought at the farm stand on Thursday. It was a delightful dinner outside, as we listened to the sound of the surf and the birds singing. After dinner, Peter and I went for a walk. We walked on the beach for a while, and then just sat on the sand. There was a wonderful waxing moon out tonight, and in addition to this sight, I had the fun of watching several piping plovers on the beach. I included a picture of a plover tonight, because they are one of my favorite beach birds. They are adorable and entertaining all at the same time. Though they are tiny birds, they can move quite quickly with their little legs. For at least a half an hour, we sat in the sand, and watched these birds run along the shore line, catching crabs to eat, and yet in the process they never got wet. When the waves would start to crash toward the shore, they would literally run as fast as their little legs would take them to avoid getting even a drop of water on themselves. These birds literally follow the waves. As the water recedes out to sea, they run into it, and as a wave comes crashing to shore, they ran toward us on the beach. Peter and I used to watch piping plovers in Duck, NC, and I absolutely loved that sight then, and seeing these birds tonight reminded me of our days before we knew what cancer and death were really about.

You may notice that I am fortunate enough to begin tonight's posting with a poem as well as end it with one. I am very grateful that Charlie and Nancy share their creative talents with me, as they so eloquently capture what I say and transform it into poetry. I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend Charlie. Charlie wrote, "Thank you for the picture of Mattie; what a beautiful smile he had. He certainly had a wonderful, playful imagination and the ability to use familiar items in new ways. It's clear this is another thing he inherited from you; it reminds me of your ability to design and use items in a different way like Abbie's stuffed animal habitat. I'm glad you and Peter had a good time shopping; it sounds as if you both enjoyed yourselves and were able to see the humor in the frenzy of all that was going on around you. Congratulations to Charlotte for her performance in the play. Public speaking is a great skill to have and it is wonderful that she is developing this composure early on. I know it is hard for both Ann and Mary to have to acknowledge the shrinking of their family, clearly they've adopted you and Peter (and the reverse as well); real friends are the family that we were not born into. As I practice today I will send you my wishes for a relaxing weekend with Peter and friends. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

The second message is from my friend and colleague, Nancy. Nancy wrote, "As I read yesterday's blog, I was not surprised to learn of your poor sleep again. It is hard to rest when the mind is filled with disturbing thoughts. I am glad Charlie brought up the idea of feeling guilty and having pleasure while you are grieving. Peter and you have nothing to feel guilty about. You gave and gave and no one can explain why Mattie had to die. This is a paradox of life. Death is a finality, a comfort to those that were suffering and it is suffering for those left behind. Mattie lived life fully even when he was in pain. He wouldn't want you to remember only the pain, he'd want you to see the joys left for Peter and you. You can make room for some joy in your life. It is not a betrayal, it is a lesson that life does go on. Mattie does live on in all who knew him. You let us see that each and every day that you have shared photos and stories. Thank you for your courage and caring. Be gentle with yourself. With love always and in all ways."

YOUR SMILE by Nancy Heller Moskowitz

Each picture that shows a smile,
Carries me from mile to mile.
I've got to learn to treasure these days,
For you have had to go away.
Never far from my thoughts are fears,
That each day will flow with tears.
I know that it's not the only way,
To remember you each and every day.
So I carry your smile inside my chest,
Like a warm and comfy living vest.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Friday, August 13, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2006. Mattie loved this collapsible tunnel that he was sitting in, and that day he was attempting to create some sort of tunnel system on the staircase. He wasn't very successful on that front, but he had a fun time trying! I snapped a picture of him in action! You will notice in this picture the line of shoes trailing up the staircase. This was where Mattie liked keeping his shoes. Over time, I just got used to keeping them there, and it was only very recently when the Washington Post photographer was coming to our home, that I finally took all the shoes off the staircase. I miss seeing those little shoes pointing my way up the stairs, and I naturally miss that beaming face wrapped up inside the orange tunnel.

Poem of the day: Another loss by Charlie Brown


I miss you my son
In so many ways
I miss who you were
How I wish you'd stayed
I see your friends
Growing up without you
Taking on new challenges
I know you'd have too
That's another loss
A hard one for me
The man you'd have become
That's what I wanted to see
Now forever in my heart
You'll be a small boy
I so much wanted
Every mother's hope and joy
To see her child change
And to watch him grow
To share his special moments
To see that smile glow
That future was gone
When I lost you
I can only look backwards
That much is true
Seeing your friends now
That makes me sad
Knowing the future
You could have had
This is a big loss
It's really hard can't you see?
I'm doing my best
So be patient with me.


Today was an overcast day by the beach, and it looked like it wanted to rain most of the day. Peter began his morning by walking on the beach, and I think he enjoyed being able to do this. Peter has always been a morning person, and I am a night person, which worked out well especially when Mattie came on the scene. It also worked well for us in the Hospital, because I could easily stay up until 2 or 3am with Mattie. I find it particularly interesting how I am going through another stretch of having trouble with sleeping. I wake up each morning at 3am. Like clock work. Nothing wakes me up, I just notice my eyes pop open. Some nights it is easier to go back to sleep, but nights that I have things on my mind, returning to sleep is almost impossible. I feel this pattern has been going on for three weeks now, so by day, I am very fatigued.

Despite having trouble sleeping last night, I do recall a dream. In the dream I was pushing a baby stroller. In the stroller was Mattie (as a baby). I couldn't see his face per se, but I was talking to him and could feel that it was Mattie. I distinctly remember in my dream, that there was a person who was trying to steal the stroller with Mattie in it away from me. I remember struggling with this person, and unlike my reality, in the dream I won. I reclaimed back the stroller and Mattie was safe. I have no idea what all this means, but I see even in my dreams I am struggling with the fact that Mattie was taken from me. Through cancer, I lost control, and in my dreams, through fighting, I seem to regain control and Mattie. I even vividly remember the stroller I was pushing and what it looked like. I remember it, because it was Mattie's stroller.

Peter and I went to the outlets today, which are quite extensive in Rehoboth, MD. We chose to do this because of the weather and because later in the afternoon, we were going to attend Charlotte's play (which was being performed close to where the outlets are). Last night, as I was sitting with Ellen and Charlotte at their dining room table, Charlotte invited Peter and I to her performance today. Charlotte was the star of the play, an Aesop Fable, entitled Androcles and the Lion. I watched Charlotte rehearse her lines last night, and it was lovely to be able to watch her perform her role. She spoke clearly, you could hear her, and she seemed really to get into her part. Her character, Androcles, basically befriends a lion, helps take a thorn out of his paw, and through friendship and gratitude they learn a lot about life and each other. It was a charming play, which was followed by two other small plays, Jack and the Beanstalk and Puss and Boots. There was a little boy, whose real name happened to be Matthew, who performed in Puss and Boots. There was something about him that reminded me of Mattie. Maybe it was his tall and slender figure, or his impish expressions. Whichever it was, seeing this boy made me smile. I see Charlotte and Abigail in all sorts of camps this summer, and I honestly do not know what Mattie would have gravitated to as he got older. I have some ideas, but I just don't know. I can only soak in these environments through his friends.

Peter and I had a very successful time shopping. Peter rarely gets things for himself, I think this was a trend that started when Mattie was born. Our focus became Mattie. However, when I heard that Peter wanted to look for some things today, I honed in on that, and made sure that he took care of himself. In the midst of shopping, I took Peter into a handbag outlet. He couldn't get over the frenzy within the store. Women were everywhere, some pushing each other, and others modeling handbags for each other. He got a chuckle out of this, and while I was in the store, Ann and I started to text message each other back and forth about the purses in the store. Peter even took some pictures of purses so that I could convey to Ann what I was seeing. The salespeople were getting a kick out of us, in fact, some of them actually wanted to hear Ann's opinion that I was receiving through my Blackberry. I told Ann it was as if she was virtually shopping with me in this store. The beauty of having a Blackberry!

This evening we went out to dinner with Ellen and Charlotte. They introduced us to a wonderful restaurant where the tomatoes were absolutely beautiful in color and in taste. I even learned a new acronym tonight, EVOO. I use EVOO all the time when I cook, but frankly did not know it stood for Extra Virgin Olive Oil. I told Ellen, I felt in the know tonight! Ellen and Charlotte leave for their trip tomorrow morning, and it has been fun hearing about their upcoming adventures to Arizona, Utah, and Nevada.

Meanwhile, this weekend Ann is driving back to Boston to visit family. Some of my readers may recall that Ann's tradition with her parents in the past would be to let them know when she crossed through each State line on her car trip. Unfortunately Ann's dad passed away in October of 2009, and Ann's mom goes to bed at an earlier hour, so Ann can no longer keep this tradition alive with them. I am sure this saddens Ann because in just two short years her immediate family has decreased in size. When Ann drove to Boston a few months ago, she landed up letting me know when she made it through MD, DE, NJ, NY, CT, and MA. I naturally was touched by this gesture, because I felt like she was sharing a family tradition with me, which indirectly told me how she felt about me. Today, the tradition continues. I have heard from Ann through MD, DE, NJ, NY, and CT. I am awaiting the MA email update.

I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my mom. As some of you know, my parents are on an European cruise. My mom wrote, "Tonight as I was standing on my deck saying goodbye to Stockholm, a beautiful city, I was feeling chilly but within a few minutes I saw the sun up in the sky with its brilliant rays pointing right at me. What does that tell you? I felt its comfort right away and it warmed me up from head to toe. I didn't need a sweater as I was immersed in its warm embrace. Despite the winds that began to build up, I remained in my comfort zone. It made me think that communication with Mattie is still possible but perhaps on an existential plane that has a frequency that must be carefully calibrated in order to be appreciated."

The second message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "What an appropriate picture as I woke to rain this morning. And what an interesting story you told about the umbrella for both you and Mattie. I agree that the comment was not well thought out; you were looking forward to trying out your new umbrella but if her wish had happened you would never have needed it. I don't think she truly meant that; I suspect it might even have been one of her "catchphrases" but in any case, none of us has a life of only sunny days; it is the rain in our lives as much as the sun that helps us to grow into the people we are meant to be. It is the rainy days that make the sunny ones more precious. I suspect that part of the reason why you have such a hard time right now with vacations and things which bring you joy is that you feel guilt at doing pleasant things while you are grieving Mattie. If sadness would bring him back, I would tell you to wallow in your grief, so he could return. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. Grief is an emotion filled with regrets, those things you did or did not do. Even though it is tough you have to go on living and doing or at the end you have far more to regret and grieve than you ever thought possible. Even though it's hard work, go away on vacation, connect with Peter and strengthen your relationship; communicate with friends and family or these "undone" things will become tomorrow's regrets. Today as I practice I send you my strength and resolution to work through all the difficult things because without them growth is not possible. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2007. We took Mattie for a walk on Roosevelt Island, Washington, DC, while it was raining. Mattie loved the rain, and there was something very peaceful about walking in the rain. Mainly because few people were on the Island during that time, and we enjoyed hearing the sound of the rain hitting the trees and river. I also think that Mattie was looking forward to a rainy day, because he wanted a chance to use his new Lightning McQueen umbrella. When Mattie and I bought this umbrella together, I shared with him the story of when my mom bought me my first umbrella. I will never forget the saleperson's comment to me. I had to be around Mattie's age, and her comment was, 'I wish you only sunny days.' In theory that was a nice comment, but actually it was mean spirited in a way, because here I was a little girl excited to use an umbrella of my own, and she basically wished me NO rain. Mattie found this story equally troubling as I did! So when Mattie bought his umbrella, my comment to him was, 'may your umbrella always keep you dry on life's rainy days!'

Poem of the day: Missing by Charlie Brown

Even more than what they take
Children give us love
They are our life's blessing
Sent from up above
When you lose your child
Your arms are empty and cold
It is hard to think about never
Having a child to hug and hold
So on top of the grief and sadness
I miss his words of care
And hearing that I'm wanted
Now those times are rare
Feelings are important
And hugs and kisses too
So if you care about me
I need to hear it from you
It doesn't have to be a lot
Nothing very much
Just an arm around a shoulder
A hug, a kiss, a touch
These things are so important
And what we grievers need
Is for you to keep connecting
And watering friendships' seed


Charlie's poem, Missing, is very fitting for today. I started off the day in a rather grey mood, not unlike the weather. DC had terrible storms this morning, and when I heard the thunder and lightning, I did not want to get out of bed. Taking a vacation is a hard concept for me, which most likely explains why Peter and I rarely venture away from home. My lifetime friend, Karen, emailed me last night and asked me whether I thought I was allowed to be happy and to enjoy a vacation? It was a good question because it gets to the heart of the problem. Logically, the answer is 'sure,' we deserve a vacation and to be happy together, but emotionally I would not give the same response.

Peter and I chatted the whole car trip to the beach. While in the car, Ann called me periodically along the way, because she knows leaving home is challenging for me. We made two stops along our journey. One stop was at a local farmer's stand and the second stop was for lunch. At lunch, Peter was chatting with me, and I am not sure what he said, but out came the tears. He joked with me, because he wanted to know if there was a key word that triggered these tears. Since I usually land up crying at lunch time with him. Naturally there is NO key word. My emotions are not that simple. This vacation is very important for Peter, because unlike myself, he doesn't have the time to heal and to focus upon his thoughts and emotions since he works full time. So I realize how much this week means to him and to us.

I am trying to pull myself together since I still feel ill, have a migraine that just won't go away, and I have developed a very unhealthy sleeping pattern. Each night I wake up at 3am, and then find that I am unable to get back to sleep. It is my hope that I can break this very toxic cycle. When we arrived today at Ellen's house, Peter and I went for a walk in the area. Mind you it was hot out, but I really needed the fresh air. Peter was a real sport, and managed walking around with me. Later in the afternoon, Ellen and Charlotte returned home and we sat and chatted for a while before dinner. Charlotte told us about her drama camp and the performance she will be in tomorrrow. Charlotte asked us tonight if we would consider going to her play. In my mind Mattie will always be 7, however, when I see Charlotte, I see that she is no longer the seven year old that I remember. She is growing, maturing, and discovering herself. Part of me can't help but wonder what would Mattie have been like now. Charlotte is an excellent conversationalist, and we talked for quite some time about all sorts of things and about her upcoming trip on Saturday to the Grand Canyon.

This evening, Charlotte picked the restaurant we had dinner at. She selected a restaurant right on the water, sitting outside. It was a wonderful view and we all had a good time together. Peter and I both agreed that Mattie would have wanted to be here on this adventure and with his friend, Charlotte. But some things were not meant to be.

I received messages from Charlie and Nancy today letting me know how much they liked what I did to Abbie's room yesterday. That brought a smile to my face. When Nancy writes to me, she signs off her e-mails as "much love always and in all ways." I told Nancy, I never heard this line before until I saw some of the letters Ann had written to her parents over the years. Ann has created many wonderful photo albums for her parents that highlight their lives together. Many months ago, Mary and I were revisiting these albums together, and as I was reading Ann's letter to Mary, I was very touched by the line "love always and in all ways." Actually when reading it to Mary, I landed up crying, because I couldn't think of a more loving salutation than this! When Nancy began signing her emails to me with this deeply touching salutation, I paused in my tracks. I am sure I wouldn't have even noticed Ann's or Nancy's line prior to Mattie's death,  but now that a great love in my life is gone, I take great notice to words of love and devotion. I feel honored to receive this written gift of love, and to know that I mean something quite special to my friend.

I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "First, I have to say that I never would have guessed what you were planning to put on the side of that bookcase and that I am very impressed by your creativeness. It looks like something created by the designers on HGTV; perhaps that is your next career move? I am so glad you kept busy yesterday and that you had lots of people who care about you to connect with. Connections with those we care about and who care about us are what make us who we are. There have been many studies on social interaction and physical connection and they all show that without these things people become depressed, ill and even die before their time. And yet, many of us go through our day without making any of these connections at all; is it any wonder our society has so many problems? I am so glad that Mary, Ann's mom, finally had her "visit" from her son. Like Mary, I believe Mattie will come to you in time; in the meantime he will probably connect via the other people in your life so stay tuned for messages. I hope you have good weather at the beach and that you are able to get out and enjoy the water and relax and heal. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

The second message is from my friend and colleague, Nancy. Nancy wrote, "BRAVO! BRAVO! Abbie's room, at least the parts you showed are awesome. Like Charlie, I couldn't imagine how you would transform the clamp into a beautiful holder for her precious animals. It is fantastic! You used so much creativity and put a bit of her friend, Mattie, in her room for safe keeping. I am glad that you were part of this project. You have so much to give, especially to 'little people' and I know this is a big void for you with Mattie's death. You accomplished two things: helping Ann and Abigail and got to go through the stage of changing a growing child's room. I believe Mattie likes his friend's room too. Mary is so much a part of your life too. What a wonderful gift yesterday! Somehow when grieving so deeply we can't believe that anything will feel right again. I think we've spoken about this earlier, yet, want to say again that once one door closes, another does open. You are gently letting some happier moments in and that, I think, is healing the cracks caused by Mattie's death. You will always see and wonder how Mattie would handle future stages of growth. He is and was your very special connection to the world. It is interesting how we can see things differently. I'm speaking of your comments regarding Mattie's eyes in today's picture. At first, all I could see was his missing tooth and then you talked about his eyes. They are not as bright, but, he did seem glad about losing his tooth, in spite of his pain. How special! Your love and gentle way certainly transformed into your courageous Mattie. We are expecting rain today and I hope you will not have the same weather for your trip to Bethany Beach. May this trip bring you greater healing and peace. May you keep finding the happiness that still exists for Peter and you. With much love always and in all ways."

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2009. In this picture, you can see that Mattie was not well. I can now see it in his eyes. Not sure I registered it back then, because I was too sleep deprived and functioning on auto pilot. Mattie and I have the same eyes, and through our eyes you can tell a lot about us. You will notice that Mattie was holding a little box in this photograph. This little box was his tooth fairy box. We picked out this box together on one of our trips to Deerfield Beach, Fl. The box now sits in my nightstand drawer, with the tooth in it. It was the last tooth Mattie lost, and things that are important to me, I keep in my nightstand drawer. I occasionally pull the tooth out and look at it, and I guess I held it too hard one day, and the tooth split in half.  

Poem of the day: Getting through by Charlie Brown


Sometimes it's the little things
The tears, the laughter memory brings
The little things that make my day
And give me hope I'll find my way.
Today for a while I was myself
I put my grief up on a shelf
With no fear that it would go away
I knew it would be back today.
I still miss you with all my heart
And inside you'll always be a part
Of everything I feel and do
I always will be close to you.

Today was a very busy day, filled with finishing up Abbie's redecoration project, and connecting with people. I am constantly amazed with my level of social interactions just being in Ann's neighborhood. I am used to city living where people basically keep to themselves. But when visiting Ann, I see her neighbors and friends on a regular basis. Some days the stark contrast between our lives does hit me.

This morning I went with Ann to visit her mom, Mary. I haven't seen Mary in quite some time because I have been quite ill. Mary was worried about me, and I wanted to visit her before going away tomorrow. As soon as Mary saw me, she said that she had something she has been wanting to tell me since Sunday. So I dragged a chair over and told her I was listening. Mary's son died from cancer about two and a half years ago. However, she has never had a dream about him or felt his presence since he died. A reality I understand all too well, and one that I find disconcerting. However, on Sunday, Mary said she had a dream about her son and he actually touched her arm. She demonstrated on my arm, how he touched her. You could tell this encounter brought her peace and happiness. Yes I said happiness, a word neither Mary or I use in our vocabulary much anymore. I told her I was touched by her story and touched that she wanted to share it with me. Mary took this one step further and told me that Mattie will come to me one day too, for that she was certain. I found that a very beautiful comment for her to make, because on some level she gets me, and she gets my sadness and my feelings of directionless. I also think expressing such concern for me, is an act of love, and it registered in my mind and heart today.

Ann and I had a delightful lunch today with Tanja and Katharina. It was actually Katharina's idea to take me to lunch to celebrate my birthday, and I know she has been excited to give me the special gift she picked out for me. When we arrived at the restaurant, I could see Katharina's enthusiasm. She had given me a hint a week ago about the gift she got me, she told me it was fuzzy and purple. Well indeed it is! It is a beautiful and cozy fleece type blanket. The perfect gift for me since I am always cold! Tanja also gave me two lovely gifts, which were both sentimental in nature. One was a butterfly umbrella, which will always remind me of Mattie, and the other gift was a locket type of keychain. Inside the locket were tiny trinkets all very symbolic of my life with Mattie. For example, one of the trinkets was of a little boy, with a diamond in it (Mattie's birthstone), and another was a lady bug! Each trinket was so meaningful and captured Mattie's spirit and energy. Needless to say, I attached the keyring to my purse and there it will remain. I am certainly touched that Katharina and her mom would want to celebrate my birthday, but I am more moved by the fact that in giving me gifts they thought about Mattie and the things that were important to us and our relationship.

Certainly we can tell if others love us by their actions, but sometimes words are also important, and are needed to be heard. When I lost Mattie in my life, please keep in mind that I also lost a great source of love. Children are wonderful at telling you they love you, at hugging you, kissing you, and making you feel special. Well this source of love went out of my life on September 8, 2009, and with that I also lost an important component that makes me human. The part that needs love and to viewed as special in the eyes of another (naturally I consider myself fortunate to have Peter, and am not minimizing this connection, but I think Peter would also agree that a great source of love in our lives is now gone). What I am trying to say is that now more than ever I do need to hear words, I need people to be open about how they feel about me, and I realize this may not be a form of communication everyone is comfortable with, but it is an important form of support for me. After lunch, Ann reminded me that Tanja said at lunch, that "this was a special lunch for a special person." When Tanja said the comment, I did not internalize it, but upon reflection, I am absorbing it. I thank those who are around me who have the courage to tell me how they feel.

Later this afternoon, the encounters just continued. While running a chore with Ann, I bumped into a colleague of mine, Camille. I hadn't seen Camille in a while, and we had a few minutes to catch up, which was lovely. As I was driving out of Ann's neighborhood tonight, I recognized someone out of the corner of my eye. It was Marisa. Marisa was one of Mattie's great babysitters, and has been our bake sale coordinator two years in a row at the Walk. It was a nice way to end the day, and I met the cute little girl she was watching today.

So as I promised, I want to share two projects I have been working on at Ann's house. The first project involved finding a way to hang a mesh basket for toys from a piece of furniture. When I discussed this project with people at Home Depot, they were thoroughly confused and told me what I wanted to do wasn't possible. But when there is a will, there is a way. I knew I needed to find a piece of hardware that could attach to furniture without damaging the wood with holes.

So before entering Home Depot, I went onto their website and looked at every tool possible. I then saw this heavy duty bar clamp, printed out a copy of it, and told the salesperson to take me to the aisle in the store where I could find the clamp in this picture. Mind you several people in the store told me this idea would never work!

As you look at this clamp, it is certainly functional, but NOT very attractive. So I had two jobs to perform.First I had to make it functional to hold a heavy mesh basket filled with stuffed animals, but second, I then had to make it attactive for a little girl's room! I don't know about you, but when I look at this clamp, attractive doesn't jump out at me!

So after giving this great thought, I decided to first spray paint this clamp. I painted it a bright and happy blue color, to match some of the tones in Abbie's room. It certainly looked better painted, but I wasn't quite happy with it yet. So today, I went to the craft store, and bought silk English Ivy leaves, wrapped it around the clamp and attached a fake bird to the end of the arm. I thought it was absolutely whimsical, and being so in tune with nature now, I wanted to bring that into Abbie's room.

When Abbie saw the finished product tonight, her reaction was "COOL!" I realize this decoration may not work for everyone, but Abbie has a spirit about her, which I had a feeling would appreciate this, and I was right!

The second project fell more on Ann than I, because Abbie wanted to create a reading nook in her bedroom. Ann has been working on finding the right pillows and things for this special corner in Abbie's room. However, as the corner was filling up, something had to be done about the curtains which were flowing and getting tangled up in the pillows. So today, I found gingham ribbon to match other things in Abbie's room, and made bows for the curtains. What you can't see is that I hot glued butterflies and flowers to the ribbons. Any case, it is safe to say that this room has been transformed, and it is charming, and a place that is just inviting to be in. After being sick for so many days, it was nice to be able to participate in this project and be creative and a part of something.

Peter and I leave tomorrow morning for Bethany Beach. So the next time you hear from me, it will be from another State and much different surroundings. I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "As I looked at the picture of Mattie, I thought it was so emblematic of your relationship. He was clearly developing an independent streak and yet he was leaning on you and you had your hand protectively around him. And so it was all the time you cared for him; you could not have done a better job. As for the memories of Mattie; well, he is a part of so many of us now, there are all sorts of things that bring him immediately to mind. Part of immortality is being remembered and I don't think he will be forgotten by any of us who know you and/or Peter or who were touched by his fight or the blog in some way. I can't wait to see the photos of what you are creating for Abbie's room; I've tried to picture what you might be hanging and how that might work but my imagination doesn't work that way. I am sure that Toni is very anxious right now and I will be saying prayers and sending positive thoughts that all turns out well for Brandon. I hold you and Peter gently in my thoughts."