Mattie Miracle Walk 2023 was a $131,249 success!

Mattie Miracle Cancer Foundation Promotional Video

Thank you for keeping Mattie's memory alive!

Dear Mattie Blog Readers,

It means a great deal to us that you take the time to write to us and to share your thoughts, feelings, and reflections on Mattie's battle and death. Your messages are very meaningful to us and help support us through very challenging times. To you we are forever grateful. As my readers know, I promised to write the blog for a year after Mattie's death, which would mean that I could technically stop writing on September 9, 2010. However, at the moment, I feel like our journey with grief still needs to be processed and fortunately I have a willing support network still committed to reading. Therefore, the blog continues on. If I should find the need to stop writing, I assure you I will give you advanced notice. In the mean time, thank you for reading, thank you for having the courage to share this journey with us, and most importantly thank you for keeping Mattie's memory alive.


As Mattie would say, Ooga Booga (meaning, I LOVE YOU)! Vicki and Peter



The Mattie Miracle Cancer Foundation celebrates its 7th anniversary!

The Mattie Miracle Cancer Foundation was created in the honor of Mattie.

We are a 501(c)(3) Public Charity. We are dedicated to increasing childhood cancer awareness, education, advocacy, research and psychosocial support services to children, their families and medical personnel. Children and their families will be supported throughout the cancer treatment journey, to ensure access to quality psychosocial and mental health care, and to enable children to cope with cancer so they can lead happy and productive lives. Please visit the website at: www.mattiemiracle.com and take some time to explore the site.

We have only gotten this far because of people like yourself, who have supported us through thick and thin. So thank you for your continued support and caring, and remember:

.... Let's Make the Miracle Happen and Stomp Out Childhood Cancer!

A Remembrance Video of Mattie

July 9, 2010

Friday, July 9, 2010

Friday, July 9, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2006. Mattie had finally outgrown his crib, which also transformed into a toddler bed. So before we disassembled his crib, we took a picture of him in front of it. He was thrilled to be moving into a big boy bed. I naturally had all sorts of fears that he would roll right out of the bed, but that never happened. He took to a bed like a duck to water. The bed he moved into had hand made bed posts. Peter's grandfather made the head and foot boards. He made a set for Peter's mom and one for Peter's aunt when they were growing up. These bed posts were then passed down and used by Peter and his brother when they were little boys. Some how we landed up with both sets. Mattie enjoyed telling people that his bed posts were his dad's when he was a little boy.

Poem of the day: BUTTERFLIES, NATURE AND YOU by Nancy Heller Moskowitz


Puddles were fun from early on,
They provided you splashes of joy.
You loved them, my tiny boy.
The trees, the earth, all meant something fresh,
Viewing the world as only a child can see.
I am glad you gave that to Dad and me.
We hung your flag this July 4th, waving in the breeze,
It greeted me as I looked out the window,
Reminding me of the rockets red glare and you.
Sometimes, your chimes sing softly,
To remind me of the way that life used to be.
And then, that day, a butterfly loomed around with grace,
Touching Speedy Red, our plants and caused me to say
You are with me today!
Twice in one week, a butterfly swooped down when I was sick.
Patches helped, but not enough, only you could do the trick.
I see the world differently, not sure of what that means
As others, too young, leave loved ones behind.
It dashes many dreams.
So butterflies and wind chimes continue
To show me the beauty of a loved one
Who can no longer be here with me.

I consider myself fortunate to have Charlie and Nancy in my life who can put my feelings into poetry. This is not a skill I have, but I greatly admire it. When I woke up this morning, Peter had left me out another article to read. In a way, I found that very sweet, because it made me feel that he thought about me before leaving for work. Today's article was not an obituary but a theatre review in The Washington Post of Mary Poppins. The title of the article is "Not so super-califragilisticexpialidious." I was amazed by the title, and thought I read it wrong at first, until I read the scathing review and realized the title fit his description. I was so insensed by the article, that I wanted to write to Peter Marks, the columnist. He calls the show a lumbering show and takes issue with the stifled household and glum domestic scenes. I am not sure where Mr. Marks is living, but every day life can be glum and very troubling for many of us. Yes despite the family's hardships, they rose above it, found the importance and meaning in their lives, and re-established connections and bonds with each other. If a play can accomplish all of that, then it is not "bland" or "burdensome." Sure it may have taken a special force like Mary Poppins to accomplish this, but that isn't very different from real life is it? Where we rely on friends and our family members to guide, support, and direct us in times of great upset. To me, this is a classic Disney tale of good rising over evil, but done in a vivacious, psychological, and memorable way. I am troubled when good theatre is panned, and shows with a lot of effects and LITTLE substance are touted for years.

I had a four hour licensure board meeting today. The composition of the board members has changed over the years. However, the staff and I have remained consistent. So in essence I am the board member with some sort of historical knowledge. Serving on the board happens to be one of the professional activities I still enjoy doing. The board basically oversees and regulates the practice of licensed professional counselors in the District of Columbia. After the meeting today, one of the board members came up to me and told me she is thrilled I am back, that the board really missed me. I suppose it is my sense of humor that was missed because even though we deal with making difficult decisions and trying challenging ethical cases, I believe it is the atmosphere that I try to create amongst board members that is appreciated.

While in the meeting, I got a call from my urologist's office. During a break, I checked my messages and the nurse from the office left me a message marked, URGENT. Needless to say, I tried calling back and the office was closed for lunch. When I got home from the meeting, I called immediately. At which point the office staff said that all the nurses were on a lunch break until 2pm, and no one could answer my question. By this point, I was working myself up into a tizzy. Prior to Mattie's cancer diagnosis, I don't think this would have been my reaction to a message marked urgent, but now I can go into a panic mode within seconds and stay at that hyper alert state for quite some time. Clearly I must have made enough of a scene on the phone, that the nurse called me back within five minutes. I told her that when she leaves a message marked urgent on my phone that I begin to think there really is an emergency. She told me she does this with all her patients, because she has learned if she doesn't, they don't call back. What reasoning! I am happy to report there was no emergency in the end, but I assure you the psychological impact of this was more than I needed today.

As I was riding home on the metro, I started to get the chills. So I took my temperature, and I again have a fever, am feeling very tired, and have a sore throat. Peter and Ann want me to get back on antibiotics, and I will see how I progress through the night.

In addition to how I am feeling today, I was worried about our 10 year old friend, Katharina, who had a surgical procedure done on her knee. Tanja, her mom, and I were chatting back and forth by text messaging for most of the day. The surgery was to take place at 7am, but it did not happen until after 10am. It was a lot of waiting around for a child, but fortunately Tanja came prepared with things for Katharina to do. Tanja and I joked about the fact that she learned from the best, Mattie. Tanja entertained Mattie many times at Georgetown University Hospital, and knows quite well that things don't always go according to plan in a medical setting. When the surgery was completed, and it went well thankfully, Tanja thanked me. I naturally did not expect her to do this, but Tanja echoed many of the same feelings I have about my blackberry. She said that staying connected even electronically helped her. I COMPLETELY related to that feeling, which is why my blackberry is a vital part of my life. It is scary to wait for your child to be treated, and having someone else, even virtually, worrying with you, helps. I am not sure I would have believed that, but I lived it and I know it makes a difference.

The ironic part about the blackberry, is we all have different styles of communicating. As most of my readers know, I am no longer a telephone conversation person. Mattie trained me so well, that I naturally prefer text messaging and emails. However, as I wasn't feeling well today, Ann wanted to check in with me. She called and left several messages, but I would then respond to her by text messaging. I know this can frustrate her at times, which is not my intention. I think she was trying to normalize my feelings today because I have felt so tired and fatigued lately, I have begun to wonder if this is now just me, and this is as good as it gets. Ann tried to reassure me that I am indeed sick, and I have a fever to prove it. The combination of feeling sick and sad is not a good one for me.

I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "It is hard to understand why some people die before they have lived a full life time. While we acknowledge the disease or accident that has taken the life of someone, it doesn't answer the real "why" question. That answer is one that we don't get to know until we rejoin those we love who have gone before us. It is a hard thing to acknowledge, that we don't know the reason behind these untimely deaths and we don't know what comes after death either. Humans don't deal well with uncertainty, we like to know what will happen and we build routines to help us cope. That's fine but we should not let those routines blind us to the uncertainties and fragility of life. Judaism focuses on the here and now and the need to do kindnesses and good deeds while we are able to do so. In our prayer book it reminds us that our time is limited, it describes a long life as 70 years with many leaving much sooner. In our society we have tried to insulate ourselves from the reality of limits on life by pushing illness, older people and funerals into spaces that do not overlap our daily living space. By doing that we assume that death will not reach into our space and when it does we are somehow shocked. I am guilty of that just as much as anyone else and I have tried to work on that by reciting the morning prayer that reminds us that G-d has returned our soul to us just for today and it is our obligation to do righteousness while we can. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. There are no guarantees of how long we will live no matter how we diet, exercise or take care of ourselves, only that perhaps, we will live healthier while we are granted this time here in our physical beings. My heart and prayers go out to the family of Peter's colleague. I wish there were something that would help relieve their pain but as we all know nothing will do that. I hope they take comfort from the time he spent with them as a father/husband and as a community volunteer. I am sorry your visit to the spa did not work out to be as relaxing as you'd hoped. I too understand the needs of a new mom to get out but there are more appropriate places to take a new baby than a serenity room at a spa. Given the day that you and Peter both had, the tickets were certainly a blessing and I am delighted that you went and had a wonderful time. Joy is sometimes fleeting but like the glimpses of the sun in an otherwise very overcast sky, it is very precious when it appears. As I practice today, I send you the energy to help you cope with the sad news you received and I hold you gently in my thoughts."

The second message is from my friend and colleague, Nancy. Nancy wrote, "Your picture of the latest butterfly and the one a few days before speaks so much of Mattie. Yesterday's picture so cute and full of the future. With all of this, I was concerned to hear that you had a fever again. I guess that Peter and you are sharing the flu again. Please take care, chicken soup besides "a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down." I'm again reminded that some questions may never have a satisfactory answer, yet, messages do come in gentle ways. You spoke of others having judgments about the terms of grieving, your colleague, Martha, knows from experience that we can not let others guide us as we walk our own path. Walk carefully and gently."

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