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

August 1, 2010

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2008, during Mattie's first week of chemotherapy. Mattie and I were examining the huge IV pole, which over time we became so accustomed to, as if it were another appendage. As I look at this picture tonight, just by looking at the sight of the bag hanging on the pole, I know Mattie was receiving Doxorubicin. I know for two reasons, a brown plastic bag always covered this particular form of chemotherapy to protect it from light, and the other reason is that I can see the RED liquid running through the tubing. This first week of chemo was very hard for Mattie, because until we found the right dosage of anti-emetics, he experienced a lot of nausea and vomiting. Despite our world being tossed upside down back in August of 2008, Mattie handled this really with a great deal of courage and bravery. I am not sure I would have done so well!

Poem of the day: Not much by Charlie Brown


It doesn't take much
Just a word or a picture
The sound of children's laughter
Any day of the week
An empty chair
A familiar song
A baby crying
The call of "mom"
Any and all of these things
Remind what was mine
And how much I miss you
It is hard not to pine

I felt the need to search through my pictures from August of 2008. Why? Because on August 1, 2008, we learned that Mattie did not only have one tumor, but two. A CT scan, which was done on August 1, to rule out tumors in Mattie's lungs (typically the next place bone cancer migrates to is the lungs, which is why the CT scan was performed), happened to accidently capture pictures of Mattie's leg arm. It was in this accidental scanning, that a large tumor was revealed in Mattie's left arm. August l, 2008 is a day I will never forget. Peter and I were already shell shocked learning about the tumor in the right arm, but when we learned about a second tumor, we were devastated. Unfortunately for Mattie, the devastation just kept on coming, until we received the FULL diagnosis of FOUR tumors (right arm, left arm, left wrist, and right leg) on August 6, 2008. Though is it NOT August of 2008 anymore, we can remember that month and all the feelings associated with Mattie's diagnosis. These memories trigger an automatic physical response in us, as if our minds and bodies have been trained and programmed to react in a given way.

Yesterday Peter told me a story at dinner about his automatic response he had yesterday after he parked his car. He ran out to do chores yesterday morning, and when he got back to our complex and parked, he popped out and without thinking, opened up the back door. A rather automatic response in a way, because this is what Peter did for many years, to help Mattie out of the car. I am not sure why Peter did this yesterday, versus any other day or days, but my response to him was Mattie was apparently driving with him today, and he felt his presence and let him out. It is a major adjustment to go from a household with a child in it, to one without one. There are times when we think in terms of three, but then catch ourselves because we are back down to just two.

We went out for a little while this afternoon and when we got back home, I happened to glance over in the living room (a room I no longer spend time in!) and noticed that many of Mattie's Legos were cleaned up and MISSING. I let out what a comment of shock! Ironically last night Peter and I talked about cleaning out a corner of the living room, and reclaiming back our coffee table. Well Peter absorbed that conversation, and decided to take on some of the Legos and box them today. I realize this has to happen, and perhaps in some cases it is better that Peter just deals with some of this. Fortunately I know Peter understands that there are some items that are off limits to discuss or touch right now.

We had dinner outside tonight, and just like last night, Patches came out to join us and hopped up on Mattie's chair, the chair between us. While outside, we could also hear JJ (our resident Jack Russell Terrier) stopping by. JJ lives at the other end of our complex, yet each day, he comes to our doorstep looking for, guess who? Mattie, his play buddy! Mattie and JJ spent a great deal of time together, and I find it fascinating how JJ migrates back each day in search. In a way, it is very touching to see his loyalty.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I know it is tough and some days it just doesn't seem like it will get any easier to drag the weight of despair, but for most grievers the burden does eventually lighten. I can tell you that the evidence shows that most grievers become ill somewhere between 9-18 months after the death of a loved one; death and grief suppress the immune system and illness is the usual result. I know that seems to be a good reason to isolate yourself but as you know being around those who you care for and care about you help you to recover your physical and emotional health so as soon as you and/or Peter feel better, try to get back out as much as you are comfortable. The essay is wonderful and he is right, it takes a special kind of courage to fight an invisible foe. A fire, even a bully is a visible foe to pit oneself against. But a disease like cancer is something far more sinister and it has the ability to return and take what you value the most. As always, those of us who love and support you wish we could replace what this disease has stolen from you. As you bear your burden today, I send you my strength to help make that load a little easier to lift. I hold you gently in my thoughts."

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