Mattie Miracle 15th Anniversary Video

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

November 14, 2024

Thursday, November 14, 2024

Thursday, November 14, 2024

Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2007. Mattie was five years old. That day we walked around Roosevelt Island and we came back with a crinkly hedge apple. These funny looking fruits lined the ground and they intrigued Mattie. So he picked one up and we brought it home. First we had to look up the name of this strange fruit and then we decided to cut it open and see what was inside. We also wanted to know if it had a fragrance! We learned that the fruit has a lemony citrus smell! A crinkly hedge apple is the fruit of the Osage orange tree. The fruit is a large, heavy, green ball with a tough, wrinkled surface that turns yellow-green in the fall. It's full of seeds and a sticky, acrid white latex that can irritate the skin. Hedge apples are not edible to humans, but they are not poisonous to pets. 

I may have been Mattie's mom, but every day and adventure with him was a learning opportunity for me! As I always say... Mattie was my greatest teacher. 


Quote of the day: In every friendship hearts grow and entwine themselves together, so that the two hearts seem to make only one heart with only a common thought. That is why separation is so painful; it is not so much two hearts separating, but one being torn asunder. ~ Fulton J. Sheen


It has been non-stop this week with doctor appointments. On Tuesday, I took my dad for a follow up appointment with his internist. Yesterday, I took my mom to the hospital for her Prolia injection, and today I took my dad to the foot doctor. None of this may sound overwhelming, until you actually see what it takes to mobilize my parents. Just herding them out of the house on time is a feat, but then there is the sheer logistics. My mom holds onto my hand at all times. My other hand is juggling their blankets, tote bag (filled with depends and change of clothing for my dad), and my dad's seat cushion. I manage this while also keeping my eyes on my dad as he negotiates places with his walker. It is overwhelming doing this alone, but since I have been doing it for quite some time, it is second nature to me. That said, it is exhausting, with no end in sight. 

After my dad's doctor appointment, I took my parents to our local diner for lunch. When we arrived, the restaurant was packed, as we went around noon. I was able to find a chair for my dad to sit in, but all the other chairs were taken. So my mom was standing with me. Next to my dad was an older couple sitting. The couple got up and offered a chair to my mom while we waited for a table. My mom took the chair and then said to me... they are old too, do I look that unsteady on my feet that they would offer me a chair? My answer was YES! My mom's view of herself is stuck in the past. She doesn't have the insight on her memory loss, significant balance issues, and her other vulnerabilities. I try not to dwell on it with her, because this can make her upset and depressed. So instead, I absorb and observe her decline and try to compensate in order to ensure her safety. 

We have gotten to know many of the people working in this diner. The waiter who works with us each week is a love. He is around my age, married, and has two children and a dog. He truly is great with my parents and also helps me lift my dad from his chair and helps him get his coat on! Since I typically manage the impossible on my own, I welcome Jason's help whenever he is free to assist. 

Later on this evening, I had my weekly therapy appointment. I have seen this therapist for a year now. If someone would have told me years ago that Peter would leave me, the horrible circumstances around his leaving, and that I would need to seek counseling, I would have laughed! I always thought Peter and I were invincible. That we had an impenetrable bond. It is hard to believe I could be SO SO wrong. Any case, the therapist realizes that I struggle with the fact that Peter won't talk to me. That I wish to have input from him and communication. In response to this she said I have to "attend and befriend" that side of me. 

I suppose this trite statement means to accept this fear and need, acknowledge it, and find a way to put it somewhere so that I can move forward without being connected to Peter. Literally I snapped at her! I told her that "attend and befriend" is trite. To me it is a platitude, that has little to no significant meaning to me. Therefore, I told her to add it to the long list of other "don't use" platitudes she has shared with me over time. I am sure I caught her off guard. But you can't expect me to sever my love and ties with a man who has been part of my life since I was 19. I also told her asking me to close a door on my last 35 years of my life, in order to look future focused isn't happening. She clearly doesn't know who she is dealing with. I am a creature of consistency. I despise change and if I develop an attachment to someone, it is a bond for life. So she is asking me to do things that are counterintuitive and NOT ME. 

Last week the therapist told me that I am hanging onto the notion of Peter, because this helps me avoid the feelings associated with abandonment, betrayal, and divorce. I told my friend in England about this conversation, and her response was hysterical! She basically said, she should try living in your shoes! Doesn't she know that you live with these feelings each minute of every day!? Exactly, how can my friend across the pond know this but the therapist can't?! A rhetorical question because I know the answer. 

The answer is, which I learned from Mattie's diagnosis and then death, that many people are limited. When out of their comfort zone, people turn to platitudes! The platitudes are not for the recipient but for the deliverer. When my therapist looks at me like I may not know what I am talking about, I give her an example of what people are like when they are out of their comfort zone. Do you know when Mattie died, people would avoid me like the plague. I represented something they couldn't handle. On several occasions, while grocery shopping, parents from Mattie's school would see me. Instead of talking to me, they put their heads down, as if they didn't see me, and quickly moved to another aisle of the store. I can't tell you how hurtful that was. In addition, I also had two close friends from graduate school. I had known then for 15+ years. However, after Mattie died, they severed our friendship. One friend told me she had to do this because my situation was making her ill. I kid you not! 

I mention this because I know all too well how changes in my life circumstances change how people view me. It changes friendships. Seen it and been there, and these changes only compound the isolation and the losses. 

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