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 29, 2014

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Tonight's picture was taken in January of 2008. This was only six months prior to Mattie's cancer diagnosis. Rather hard to grasp really, especially when you see him in this photo. Mattie looked healthy and happy. Like a typical five year old. On the weekends we always went for a walk and we practically knew every nature trail and preserve in our local area. As you can see, Mattie found a stick along his journey that day. Not an unusual occurrence, since Mattie always came home with a prize. We had quite the stick collection in our commons area at one time! 



Quote of the day: The most important story we'll ever write in life is our own-not with ink, but with our daily choices.  Richard Paul Evans


Last night I returned to the university that I used to teach at and gave a guest lecture about children and loss. The class was comprised of master's and doctoral level counseling students. Though the building I was in had been completely remodeled, that was about the only thing that was different. I suppose I could enter a classroom and just start talking, but to me it is always important to know who sits before me. So before discussing childhood cancer, Mattie Miracle, and the impact of a cancer diagnosis on a child and family, I wanted to know why each of the students enrolled in such a class. After all, this class is an elective, not part of the core curriculum. Loss is a very challenging topic for our society and frankly mental health professionals are NO different. It is equally difficult for many of them to discuss and process. 

I have lectured about childhood cancer in MANY different settings now. Whether in a university, hospital, or at a conference. After I tell our story about Mattie (and of course I talk about other things as it relates to childhood cancer, but the reason behind my knowledge is always discussed first), take a guess at how many people usually say to us...... we are sorry for your loss???! Really, guess! Maybe you are thinking half of the audience or perhaps a third? Keep in mind I am talking to people either trained to deal with life threatening medical issues or those with counseling skills. Well the answer to my question is there is usually one or TWO people at the most who tell me they are sorry for my loss. ONE or TWO!

In fact after class last night, one young lady came up to chat with me. She was intrigued by my statement that grief books were not helpful to me as a parent who lost a child to cancer. So she wanted to know what kind of things would have been helpful to me early on. We discussed this for a while and then she told me she was sorry for my loss. So the question is why is this? Is it because this is an academic talk, or a talk in a more formal setting? Is it because people are taking in the information without truly grasping the profound emotions that underlie the content? Or better yet, do we put up defenses or protectors in situations like this so as to not break down and feel the pain? I don't know the answer to any of my questions, but this is a consistent observation I make at each of my talks. I know I am getting the content out and I am also hitting on emotions and feelings, because at times I can see tears and heightened levels of discomfort in those around me. I really think it is hard for others (even professionals who want to work in this field) to step outside their comfort zone and be human. As I told the class last night, doing grief work requires one to be uncomfortable at times (after all you are going to see and hear people in pain), to be open to listening, and to not have quick fix answers. Which is all quite problematic in our high tech/fast paced 24/7 world. 

As I end the day today, I received a lovely message from my friend and colleague which brightened my evening. In her message she said, "What I admire the most is how you take your sadness and create joy for others just knowing that you are out there." When my friend signs her emails to me she typically says..... "Your friend in all ways and always." Which I absolutely love! May we all have a friend who cares for us in all ways and always. It certainly makes my grief journey a bit more manageable. 


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