Bitter Angry Grief Lady

This post was originally started on December 17th and then I walked away from it.  I tend to do that.  I'll think of something, start a post and leave it for another time.  Today in church, the sermon was titled "Overcoming our Anger."  That got my attention. 

What's interesting to me is that I wasn't angry during Matthew's treatment.  I wasn't angry at God, or anyone really.  There were moments that I questioned "why did this happen to us", but I don't feel like I dwelled too much on it. I recall several times wondering why I wasn't having those feelings- Steve had experienced some of it, but it just never happened to me. 

The first time I got really angry was in clinic.  Is was September 30, 2013.  We had just participated in the Run of Hope in Seattle the day before and we were in clinic for an MRI to see if the avastin/irinotecan were working to slow Matthew's tumor at all.  Matthew and Megan were watching TV in an infusion room and we were in the nearby conference room.  Cory, Steve and I looked at the MRI images and talked about what we saw.  As the reality of "it's not working" set in, I slammed my hands down on the table and began to yell.  "NO, not now, not my son....this can't be happening."  I grabbed the nearest thing to me, which happened to be a small calculator ad threw it at a wall.  No one said a word, or told me to stop.  I only noticed later that Cory moved my phone away from me so I couldn't throw it also.

Cory told me a story once about a mom who tore apart the bathroom outside of the clinic waiting room.  She had received bad news and proceeded to tear the paper towel holders off the wall.  At the time she told me this, I thought "wow, I can't imagine ever being that angry."  On September 30th, I understood that mom's anger. 

Anger is that feeling we go to when we're protecting something sacred.  Nothing could more sacred than Matthew's life.  So your right...I'm DAMNED angry.  Who am I angry at?  I don't know.  I don't feel like I'm angry at God.  God gave us that perfect boy to love for 11 years.  How could I be angry at Him for that?  Because he took Matthew away?  I still don't know how I feel about that whole concept, so I don't think I'm angry at God.  I really don't think I'm angry at a person.  Rather I think I'm just angry at our situation.

I endured fourteen months of hell, knowing that my child was going to die, only to start phase two of hell eight weeks ago.  I have every right to be mad.  I watched helplessly for fourteen months while trying to make the best of every moment- to memorize every single day of our time together, only to lose my son.  I pushed aside the future and tried to live in the moment...only to get screwed in the end.  You're right I'm mad.  I held my son in my arms as he died.  How could I NOT be mad?

I'm mad at this awful disease and what it did to my son.  It took everything from him.  Everything.  And we were forced to watch.  We were helpless.  All we could do is love him through this.  So yeah, I'm angry.  I'm angry for us as parents, for Megan who lost her best friend and for Matthew's friends who miss him too.  I'm angry for our families and what they've lost.  I'm angry for us all.  I'm angry because I can't fix this.  I can't bring him back.  No matter how angry I am and no matter how mad I get, it won't change a thing...and that makes me mad too.

I've come to the conclusion that it's ok to be mad.  It's not ok to let that anger take on a life of it's own.  Anger is a part of the tool kit.  It fits right in with yoga pants, vodka, excess calories and the F-word.  Yes, they all have their place in the grief tool kit.  I think that we've done a good job of channeling our anger into action in ways that help other people.  To me, that's where my anger belongs.  I can't deny it- but I can use it for good. 

With Matthew in my Sometimes Angry Heart, Nikki

 

10/20/13- I am angry that this is our last family picture with Matthew in it.