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Our mission is to raise awareness of childhood brain cancer and also raise funds that will go directly towards childhood brain cancer research.
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Author Archives: Madox's Warriors

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2019 Kids Dance Fundraiser

 

On Sunday, May 5, 2019 we held our 5th annual Kids Dance Party Fundraiser and it was a great success!

 

We had dancing and music with Princesses, Superheroes, Photo booth, Face painting and two Sweets table. Many great packages from door prizes, silent auction and a raffle.

 

We could not have done this without the help of so many.

  • Thank you to our dance committee who helped coordinate this event, Aileen, Jenn, Jacki and Laura.
  • Thank you to all of our awesome volunteers who worked tirelessly that day to make everything run smooth.

We want to thank our event sponsors, we thank you for supporting us!

 

Thank you to all our supporters who generously donated prizes to our event!

 

 

 

Missing Our 14 year old

 

Madox was born at the end of March. He was suppose to be an April baby but he was just too eager to join our family. He was tiny but full of life. He clung to me right from the beginning. We didn’t know it at the time, but we needed those 2 1/2 extra weeks to enjoy him a little more.

 

 

Madox should have turned 14 years old this year. It has been 5 years since we last celebrated a birthday with him. That doesn’t even sound right. 5 years? It’s a lifetime ago. 5 missed celebrations. 5 missed blowing out the candles. 5 missed notches on the height board. Five. Really hard to grasp. We will forever wonder what gifts he would have requested. What cake he would have asked me to bake. Where he wanted to go for dinner. Things we all take for granted and don’t think twice about. These simple things we dismiss in life, I now yearn for. It keeps me up at night wondering. Wishing. Longing.

 

 

Instead we continue traditions we started after Madox died. We go out for a pancake breakfast on his birthday, to keep happy memories alive. Pancakes were Madox’s goto when we went out for breakfast. Looking across the table and not seeing Madox is always difficult to swallow. We try to treat a family to breakfast who are in the restaurant, in honour of Madox. Valin usually helps choose which family we treat, but this year my eyes stayed focused on two littles sitting near us. I think they are twins, enjoying the morning with their mom, dad and extended family. I smile at the sweet little girl sitting by her daddy, walking around in her socks. Then my eyes focus on the little boy. He was wearing a superhero shirt and piling up the creamers into a stack. That instantly brought me back to many days watching Madox and Valin do the same thing when we were at a restaurant. I knew instantly this would be the family this year. This small gesture of buying a family breakfast makes me smile, yet so important. It helps me honour Madox, even if it is small. My only hope for the family we choose in turn, appreciates their kids, their life just a little more. Sometimes we lose that with how busy we all get with our lives and the world.

 

 

Your empty chair on your 14th birthday

 

 

The other tradition we continue to do is meet at Madox’s plot with family. We all solemnly sing happy birthday, eat birthday cake, and release blue balloons. This always pulls at my heart watching the balloons fade away, up up up into the sky. I hate this tradition but need it to feel we have celebrated Madox. My emotions are everywhere.

 

 

We have been doing this for 5 years. How can it be 5 years already? Wasn’t he just diagnosed? Weren’t we just living in the hospital by his bedside? Wasn’t it just yesterday we were begging the world to take us instead of him? 5 years. Looking back, I don’t know how we survived these 5 years. It has been a difficult road. Many tears shed, sleepless nights, and silent screams. Sadly, we have many more years to celebrate Madox without him. Something we can never change. Something we will continue to do, as long as I live.

Wishing our sweet Madox a happy birthday. You are the light that completed our family. You are truly missed. We love you forever.

 

 

We Were Never Alone

 

 

Today at work, my coworker I haven’t seen in a while, walked up to me and gave me a big hug “So sorry. Diagnosis day.” I was taken aback, as most people try not to mention days that are or can be difficult for me. I normally don’t show emotion at work (put on that happy face and all) and not much of a hugger. Yet I caught myself molding into her and really feeling her emotion toward me of how significant that day is. I truly appreciated her words and action. I began thinking about the people that surround me, that surround my family. I realized I allowed my fog and depression to blind me. I was completely aware and appreciative of everything people have done for us, but I don’t think the full depth of it really sunk in.

 

 

The friend who listened quietly while I sobbed on the phone after Madox’s diagnosis. I barely said anything. She quietly stayed on the line allowing me to cry.

 

My old coworkers organizing a food drive during Madox’s battle so we didn’t have to worry about cooking.

 

My friend showing up at midnight without me asking, to help me suction Madox as I was panicking I couldn’t get his secretions clear.

 

Our friend bringing a basket of food to the ICU for us, to ensure we had something on hand to snack on so we didn’t need to leave Madox.

 

My in-laws who were feeling helpless and broken, cooking for us and tending to Valin so Marco and I could concentrate on Madox’s care.

 

Blankets and pillows made from photos of our family.

 

Artwork of our boys, to hang proudly on our wall.

 

A breast cancer fighter and her husband rallying with us to bring awareness and raise funds for DIPG, all while she was fighting her own cancer battle.

 

A momma fighting leukemia and a bone marrow transplant but found the strength and time to join our events and even tried baking for our bake sale.

 

My group of friends who continually invite me to outings, and never get annoyed or angry with me when I cancel last minute.

 

Masters at Tactical TaeKwondo presenting Madox with a black belt for bravery during his battle.

 

Neighbour donating her commissions of her small business to Madox’s Warriors every September.

 

The many moms of children who were in Madox’s grade/class I never knew until after he died. I feel the love and connection from this amazing group, which saddens me I didn’t get to know them when I was my original self. They surround us with unwavering support.

 

Children we know and don’t know, donating their birthday money to Madox’s Warriors. Feeling the connection to want to help our cause.

 

The family who we connected with due to both our children battling brain cancer at the same time. They don’t shy away from saying Madox’s name, for fighting for our cause, and sending me uplifting messages when they know I am having a difficult time.

 

The repeat participants at many of our events. The list goes on and on and on.

 

I have always seen you, but I finally fully see you. I always thought we were alone in Madox’s fight. Now I see I secluded myself into thinking we were in this alone. I lost myself, broken and angry. I did not recognize myself, so it was difficult for me to recognize the love around us.  I am feeling everyones embrace. Thank you for standing by us, and sharing your light.

 

 

Black belt presented by Tactical TaeKwondo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 7

 

 

5 years today. 5 years ago today we heard those words no parent wants to hear. 5  years ago we met a murderer, and it was attacking our son.

 

No length of time will soften the hurt. We will forever remember that day, that specific moment. That walk down the bright hospital hallway. The look on the doctors faces. The dread in my heart. The words…. oh those devastating words.

 

The day of diagnosis will always hang over our heads. The memories. The life changing word. The immediate loss felt.

 

Some will say 5  years is a long time. A parent who has buried their child will say it’s too long. Time changes very little. It certainly does not heal all wounds.

 

My heart is very heavy with all the memories flashing in and out of my mind. I wish I could have prevented this. I wish I could have saved you.

 

Tired but still smiling. Right eye was already turning in, we now notice here

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