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

January 28, 2014

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Tuesday, January 28, 2014 -- Mattie died 229 weeks ago today.

Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2007. Hard to believe it snowed in March, but it did! Mattie loved the snow, particularly creating in the snow. As you can see he collected as much snow as possible and built snow castles around his green frog sandbox. Not unlike at the beach, whenever Mattie created a castle, he always decorated it with found objects. At the beach that was usually shells, sea glass, sea weed, and wood. However, on our deck the things he had access to were his ever growing rock collection. Rocks which Mattie collected from just about anywhere. Any time we went for a walk, Mattie always came home with a natural prize.


Quote of the day: When a depressed person shrinks away from your touch it does not mean he is rejecting you. Rather he is protecting you from the foul, destructive evil which he believes is the essence of his being and which he believes can injure you. ~ Dorothy Rowe


Tonight's quote gives us some raw insight into depression. Though Mattie's blog doesn't focus on this topic, I think this issue was pervasive when Mattie was diagnosed with cancer and most certainly after his death. In fact, depression is much worse for me after Mattie's death than while he was battling cancer. When Mattie was in the throws of his cancer journey, Peter and I were just trying to stay afloat and manage Mattie's care needs and medical decisions. There was no time to process things on a more emotional level and therefore, it was hard for depression to grab a hold of us. Anxiety, stress, anger, and general sadness......... YES, but the hopelessness and despair of depression was not on my radar scope. It couldn't be. I had to be strong, positive, assertive, and manage Mattie's care. Since Mattie absorbed my every move, I did not want to startle or alert him anymore than was truly necessary. 

When I read tonight's quote, I literally replaced the word "depression" with "grieving." By doing this, it captures the essence of what I think bereaved parents struggle with. We struggle to fit in, and the struggle isn't unfounded. We struggle because we literally don't fit in anymore. Sometimes these feelings are so intense that to protect ourselves from further hurt we will reject the attention of others in our life. Part of it is to protect ourselves and the other part is to shield those around us from the reality that we see, know, have felt, and observed. After all if you see what is truly inside our heads, it may scare you and it also may injure you. It injures us emotionally, so why shouldn't it also injure you? 

In between working today, I had the opportunity to see two friends. Both of whom have neurological diseases. Diseases which have left them wheelchair bound, unable to move (not even a hand), and with the inability to speak and communicate. It is very devastating to be around a person like this, especially if this is a person you know and care about. Some days I can put these visits in better context than others. However, today wasn't one of those days. The cornerstone of most relationships is being able to share thoughts and feelings, but what happens when this only goes one way now? Does the friendship still exist!? Well of course the answer is yes, but it just takes much more introspection and reflection of memories to guide the new dynamics. If I said the gut instinct to walk or maybe run away from the situation did not cross my mind, I would be lying. I don't want to see or remember my friends as they are now. Just like I do not want to remember Mattie as fighting and dying from cancer. But the reality is, we do not always get what we want in life. We can either bury our heads in the sand and do what is easier, or somehow rise to the occasion and in the process learn more about ourselves and our ability to connect with someone on a non-communicative level.

This evening I head to the George Washington University to give a guest lecture on children and loss. I did this session last year at this time of year. However, it is hard to believe that in 2008, I had my own classes. It seems like a lifetime ago, as if it I were a different person altogether. I am in the same body, but everything on the inside has changed. I have been invaded and my body has been snatched up by grief. 

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