Madi's life touched so many people in so many different ways. Her story continues to change our lives for the better. She was and will always be a blessing to us.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Week Three-The Cruise

Week three was just what we needed, and we needed a lot. I missed Jay, I missed Madi, I missed sleeping, and I missed having peace in my life. When there is a void this large, it is hard to make it up in the small spaces of time between your daily tasks.  Going on a cruise and ditching all of those tasks gave us the time and focus we needed to fill the void.

The first block of time Jay and I had together was the 7 hour drive to Cape Canaveral. We, excitedly, jumped in the car and left all our cares (like Trey and Derek) behind. Thankfully, Cassie took the kids to Grandma Becky’s house. Derek and Trey spent the week with Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and Grandparents. Knowing that they were in good hands freed Jay and I up to worry about each other. In the car, we spent the time talking and listening to the radio. “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry came on, so I cranked it up (y’all know I love to sing).

I first heard this song a few months after Madi was diagnosed. It was a very scary song to listen to in the beginning, but I have grown to love it. Oddly enough, that song hit number one on Billboard's Nielsen/BDS Adult Contemporary Chart the week that Madi died. At the CMA Awards, two days after Madi’s death, the song won Single of the Year and Song of the Year. Sadly, I am not the only with whom this song resonates.

Because I love to sing, I need to know the words. I couldn’t quite get what they were saying in the beginning, so I looked up the lyrics. The first verse says,

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh well
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

I love this verse. It brings me peace to think she is with our Lord. On Monday, day two of our cruise, Jay and I decided to have lunch on the patio at the back of the ship. All of a sudden it seemed everyone around us let out a giant gasp in unison. Looking for the cause of the commotion, we turned to see the most amazing rainbow I have ever seen. It formed a perfect semi-circle on the horizon line out over the water. Jay and I gave each other the same look that said, “Is this really happening?” I felt flushed with peace and then with gratitude for such a comforting experience. Then, of course, as Jay sat soaking in the experience, I made a mad scramble for my camera to capture the moment. The whole thing was priceless.


There is nothing like feeling a connection to someone who has passed. I had been longing for some kind of connection with Madi for two weeks. I was unsure what this connection would look or feel like. I believe that people have been visited by those who have passed. Would Madi visit me? Would that be like seeing a ghost? That seemed kind of spooky. I shied away from even wanting that; but I wanted something. I know people live on, but what is our relationship with them? Can we talk to them? I have always been taught to pray to my Father in Heaven. Does trying to talk to Madi go against this principle? Is that like a séance? Even more spooky. I was feeling very confused. I needed something, but I didn’t know what.

I guess Madi knew what I needed. Thanksgiving morning Jay woke before me and decided to go out on the balcony to read and let me continue sleeping. I had a dream that was more real and clear than any dream I’ve had before. When I woke, it wasn’t like coming out of subconscious, where the memory is fleeting. It was like coming from a state of consciousness where the memory is easily accessible. I laid in the bed a moment trying to figure out what was happening, but feeling very peaceful. Then I made a mad scramble (trying to preserve the moment again) for my journal to record everything that just happened. Here is what I wrote in my journal that morning:

            I just had the most amazing dream about Madi. She was lying in a bassinet-type thing next to our bed. She was dead. Her body was puffy and red. She started to wake up and the normal color returned to her face. Then the puffiness went away as well. She had her normal pre-cancer body. She crawled out of the bassinet and started walking. I was shocked to see her walk again. Jay was there with me, and we just watched her. She looked at me and said, “Mom, I need to go potty.” I looked at Jay confused. I said to her, “Are you trying to make me crazy?” I asked Jay if he thought I should take her potty. We both shrugged. I followed her to the bathroom and watched her go potty. Jay and I looked at each other in amazement. Then Jay went to wake Alex up. I introduced her to Alex and said, “This is what Madi really looks like.” Jay and I were both happy to have another witness of what was going on. Then she started to change a little. She started to look like a pre-teen. She walked across my bed where I sat and commented that she was hungry and that we had no grapes in the house. She told me how cute Derek is and how much she wanted to help take care of him. Then she appeared to be in her twenties, and we walked outside to a backyard party we were having with lots of friends and family. As we walked I made a mental note that she was almost a head taller than me. I pointed out to the group that this is what Madi looks like grown up. She was very beautiful and exhibited a lot of poise around everyone as we sat around the patio table. Then she asked me if there was anything else I needed. Tears filled my eyes because I knew that she was leaving. I told her this was great and thank you. She stood up, let a sigh of relief, and said, “Good, because you don’t know the strings I pulled to be here.” We all laughed and I thought, “That’s my stubborn, rebel Madi.” We hugged goodbye and I woke up.

After I finished writing in my journal, Jay came back in from the balcony. The timing of all this seemed amazing. I felt sad that Jay and I (and the rest of my friends and family) had not actually experienced this together but I know that it was how it had to be.

Jay and I did get to experience other things together while on our cruise, and being together was very important to us. A shocking 85% of couples who have a child with cancer get divorced and 90% of couples who have lost a child get divorced. This is what I have heard and what has been quoted to me (and what I have quoted to others). I decided to check resources before I continue quoting these statistics. It turns out that I can find no studies to back up any of these statistics. I found research done in 2006 by Directions Research, Inc. that surveyed 306 people who were married who had experienced the death of a child. Only 16% (the national average is 50%) reported getting a divorce and less than half of those felt the child’s death impacted the divorce. As for couples parenting a child with cancer, I found a study done in 1978 that showed divorce rates less than the average and a study done in 2009 by the American Society of Clinical Oncology which looked at 4590 couples parenting a child with cancer and found no increased risk for divorce. That seems about right to me. Despite the cancer putting tremendous stress, anxiety and trauma on our relationship, we have found that we have also grown closer together and gained strength from each other. But while we apparently are not headed for divorce, we missed each other terribly. The cruise was the perfect opportunity to remember why we loved each other.

The entire week we did whatever we wanted. We did not have any worries. If we felt like eating, we went to the restaurant. If we felt like sleeping, we took a nap. If we felt like talking about Madi, we talked. And if we did not feel like talking about Madi we went to a juggling show or snorkeling. It is amazing what can be accomplished when we don’t have daily tasks to tend to. Jay and I brought some books that people had sent when Madi died. We laid by the pool and read these books together. I would read a chapter, then Jay would read the chapter, and then we would discuss it. To read the books we read and discuss them would have taken at least a month in our normal lives. Jay and I tend to have really great conversations when we go out to eat together. We usually eat out alone three or four times a month. We ate out three meals a day for seven days. The conversations we had this week would have taken seven months to have in our normal lives. We took naps everyday, which is usually only a Sunday luxury. By the end of the week we were so well rested and reconnected. Plus we had time to think, to contemplate all the questions we now had about life. The week on the cruise really brought us a peace we had not felt in a while.


The Sunset at the Sports Bar

Many of you did not know we had gone on a cruise. I received lots of message on Thanksgiving letting me know that I was thought of on that day. I know many of you worried that it would be hard to have Thanksgiving without Madi. However, Thanksgiving was very special to me. It was that morning that I had my dream about Madi, so I really felt like she was with me that day. The rest of the day unfolded perfectly. In the morning we went to the gym to workout while taking in a view of the ocean with schools of flying fish retreating from the ship. Then we laid out and read and talked. After a nap we went to a sports bar and watched my Cowboys with a backdrop of the sun setting over the ocean. And then we went to a Thanksgiving dinner at the restaurant. It was a great day. Thank you for all the prayers for our family to be comforted during this time. They were answered.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Week Two

November 19th, 2011

As week two began, our visitors started to go home. My brother and Jay’s brother were the last ones here. Trey spent time playing x-box with his uncles. Apparently Damon kept beating Trey, so Alex became his favorite uncle (Trey has some good sportsmanship issues that we are working on). The next day, Trey went to school, and Jay and Damon went to play golf. Alex and I stayed home and talked. What else do you do with someone getting their PHD from Harvard but pick his brain?

Talking with Alex is awesome. His Masters and PHD are in Hebrew Bible. You can say things like, “Creation story; go,” and he will entertain you for hours. We ended up having a really great conversation.  One of the things we talked about was the idea of suffering. I told him how hard it was to watch Madi suffer. Alex was reminded of a verse from the Bible in Hebrews 2:10 which says, “For it became him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” It is interesting to think that Christ, who was perfect, was made perfect through His suffering.

Could we also be made perfect through sufferings? When I first learned Madi’s diagnosis, one of my first prayers (besides HEAL HER) was, “If You are going to take her, take her now and save her from all the suffering.” These prayers, like all our prayers, are followed with, “Nevertheless, Thy will be done.” I can’t help but be reminded of the Savior’s similar plea. “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.” (Matthew 26:42)

In the following eight months I thought a lot about suffering and its purpose. I thought about the purpose of Madi’s story and how it might end. Maybe the purpose of Madi’s suffering is to change the lives of all those who hear her story. Jay and I had the privilege of meeting with a General Authority of our church to discuss these very topics and others. We talked about how many people had been touched by Madi’s story and how it has changed so many lives. I was definitely focusing on all the people around Madi. Then he asked a very important question, “What do you think Madi will gain from this?”

I thought about this question many times over Madi’s life and since her death. What did she gain? I know what I gained, and it was immense. One thing I have gained is a new level of understanding of the atonement. We know that “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son…” (John 3:16) This idea always confused me. I used to think it strange that (I hope this doesn’t sound blasphemous) we always talk about how amazing it is that God sacrificed His son. It seems to me that God knew (with a perfect knowledge) that when Christ died he would return to Him. I feel like He was never separated from His son. How was this a sacrifice? When Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son, Isaac, he had to have an extreme amount of faith that it would all work out and that they would eventually be reunited. As I watched Madi, a perfectly innocent little three year old, get sick and suffer, I understood God’s sacrifice on a whole new level. Christ dying was not God’s sacrifice. It was watching Him suffer. I understood what it must have felt like to watch His perfectly innocent son be ridiculed, tortured, and spit upon, and to leave Him alone to bleed from every pore so that He could atone for everyone else’s sins (painfully this includes me).

I also gained an understanding that we learn and grow through our earthly trials. Robert D. Hales, an apostle in the LDS church, states, “Suffering is universal; how we react to suffering is individual. Suffering can take us one of two ways. It can be a strengthening and purifying experience combined with faith, or it can be a destructive force in our lives if we do not have the faith in the Lord’s atoning sacrifice. The purpose of suffering, however, is to build and strengthen us.”

So maybe suffering is part of our purpose here, part of the plan. Maybe it is a necessary part of our progression towards being like our Father in Heaven. So what did Madi gain? Maybe, even though Madi was perfect in the sense of being unblemished or unmarked by sin, she was made perfect through her suffering.

I think back to my pleas, all of our pleas, to our Father in Heaven to relieve her of her suffering. Was He torn? Did He long to answers our prayers, but knew He had to do what was best for Madi and all of us? During this time, Jay and I were definitely challenged on our ideas about the power and purpose of prayer. In our discussions on prayer, Jay often quoted from Luke chapter 11, verse 11. In this chapter Jesus teaches the disciples how to pray and then tells them that their prayers will be answered, reasoning that, “If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent?”

I know this passage really hits home with Jay. He is such an amazing dad and would do anything for his kids. In fact, it has happened more than once that I have come home and seen something crazy happening, like brownies for dinner. I will ask Jay, “Why is Trey having brownies for dinner?” Jay’s answer (which I have heard so many times) is, “Because he asked for it.” I often go into lecture mode about how Trey is not in charge and that Jay is the parent and has to make the unfavorable decisions as to what is best for our children. Jay will agree with me … and then serve brownies for dinner the next time I go out of town.

So I ask the question in reverse. “If a son shall ask for a serpent, what father would give it to him?” Sometimes what we ask for (beg for) in prayer, is just not good for us. And Heavenly Father shows His love for us by giving us fish even when we, in our naiveté, ask for a serpent.

I actually started to get annoyed with my prayers that were being answered. It seemed that every other prayer was being answered, except the one asking to heal Madi. I stubbornly thought I would stop asking for anything except for Madi to be healed, so if He wanted to answer my prayers He would have only one to choose from.

I know that getting answers to our prayers is a complicated issue for many people. I remember talking about prayer with a friend whose wife passed away several years back. He was annoyed by a recent talk on prayer where the speaker told a story about praying to find lost keys and then finding them. His problem was that it didn’t really matter whether or not the person was divinely inspired to find his keys… he probably would have found them even without such intervention. Why would God answer this insignificant prayer and yet seemingly ignore our prayers when they are really important to us? What about when we pray for things that really matter?

I think that when it comes to the issues that really matter, God has to do what’s best, no matter what we ask for. Since He can’t answer our most important prayers the way we want, He takes every opportunity to answer the little prayers that don’t matter, just to reassure us that He is there and loves us. In our family, I make sure the kids eat their vegetables and Jay takes every opportunity to give them what they want; it is one way he shows them he loves them (keeping them healthy is mine).

I know that God loves us. As odd as it seems, I’ve learned through all the suffering and unanswered prayers that God loves us. I know that Madi gained so much from her trial. About a month before Madi passed away, Quentin L. Cook, an apostle, spoke to the LDS church assuring us that, “There are many kinds of challenges. Some give us necessary experiences. Adverse results in this mortal life are not evidence of lack of faith or of an imperfection in our Father in Heaven’s overall plan. The refiner’s fire is real, and qualities of character and righteousness that are forged in the furnace of affliction perfect and purify us and prepare us to meet God.” God’s plan for us is perfect. Even at the young age of three, Madi was perfected and purified and prepared to meet her God.

All this learning and growth is exhausting! After Alex and Damon left, the exhaustion really sunk in and so did the quiet. The next day it was apparent that Jay felt the same way. He said, “We need to get out of here. I don’t care where we go or how much it costs.” As the family travel agent, I immediately booked a 7 night cruise for two that left four days later.


Sunday, January 1, 2012

Madi's Memorial Service

Before I move on to week two, I would like to post details of Madi’s memorial service for those who were unable to attend. Below I have inserted the program, transcribed the talks, posted a link to Madi’s tribute video that we played before and after the service, and added photos from the event. We are happy to be able to share this day with all those who could only be there in spirit.









Bishop Aaron Starbuck: This tribute today, we will celebrate the life and the miracle that Madi was. We will begin by having an invocation by John Douglas. Then we will have a musical number by the Wynnton United Methodist Preschool. They are going to be singing to us “Jesus Loves Me”, “This Little Light of Mine”, and “How Great Thou Art”.

John:   Our Father in Heaven, We come before Thee with heavy hearts but with gratitude, grateful for the ways our lives have been touched; we are grateful for the moments Thou hast given us, and for the opportunity we have had to be touched. We are grateful for the Gospel and for the principles it teaches. We are grateful for the atonement of Thy Son, and the opportunities that it provides to us. We are grateful for the principals that families can be forever. We ask that Thy Spirit will be with us this day. We pray that Thou will comfort us as Thou has promised. And pray that our hearts might be [healed]. We pray that as we reflect upon the gems of the experiences that we have had with Madi, that we might rejoice in each of those, that we might cherish and that those moments might be made brighter in our lives, and that we might reflect on the greatest gifts thou hast provided us. We pray particularly for Jay and Angie, and ask that they may be comforted and for Trey and Derek, and that they might rest assured in the promises thou hast provided, and be grateful for the knowledge that comes through the Atonement of thy Son Jesus Christ. We are grateful for the opportunity to gather together. Grateful for our friendship and the love that we share. We are grateful for the sacrifice and atonement of thy Son, in whose name we pray. Amen.

(I am working on uploading the audio of each of the musical performances. They were each very sweet.)

Bishop: Thank you, Wynnton Preschool. I know Madi was singing right along with you. We are now going to hear some remarks by Sister Karen McGoirk. She was Madi’s Sunday nursery leader. Then we will hear from Madi’s uncle Ryan Hammond and her brother Trey Douglas.

Karen McGouirk: Good morning brothers and sisters. Real quick, by a show of hands, how many of you went shopping to by something purple for someone in your family this week? That is Madi’s economic recovery plan – Buy Purple. I know our family alone created a new job at TJ Maxx this week. I can see it now, the store reports are going to go to the buyers. The buyers are going to be calling New York, London, Paris and Milan. They are going to say, “Purple is up”. Next year, the stores are going to be flooded in purple, and we are going to call that the Madi Fashion Phenomenon.

I met Madi just 10 months ago. I had moved back to Columbus, and was immediately called to be the Nursery leader here in the Flat Rock Ward. Nursery in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the children’s very first religious class. We are together for two hours every Sunday, and out of those 2 hours, we spend about 2 minutes of that on a lesson. It is for children who are 18 months old, until the January following their 3rd birthday. They very first Sunday that I was in there, I kept hearing, “Where’s Madi, where’s Madi, you need to meet Madi.” But their family wasn’t there (they must have been on vacation for Martin Luther King weekend). But I had heard about Madi, and I sure did want to meet this girl Madi. The next week I did. She was graceful, articulate and beautiful. Madi excelled at Art Time, she loved art time. Lesson time…she could take it or leave it. But art time was her time. We know about Madi’s love for the color purple. Well, in the back of the nursery, we had sippy cups for the children. And the very first time we passed them out, Madi politely asked, “Can I have a purple one please?” And of course she got it; she was so polite. And after that, I always saved the purple sippy cup for her. The other kids, I must say, got what they got. Madi always got the purple. Except for one Sunday, when she asked for a pink cup. I was very concerned, knowing that she was going through a lot of treatments and other issues, so I told Angie when she came by to pick her up, “Madi asked for pink today.” She assured me that it was okay, that pink was also one of her favorite colors. I was very relieved, and next week, Madi went back to purple. And from there on out, she always had the purple.

One week, Madi and I were sitting at the table doing an art project, putting stickers on the paper, and she tells me, “I have a brain tumor, and it makes me very hungry.” I responded, “You have a tumor in your head, and it makes you hungry in your tummy?” She thought that was the greatest joke, and she just laughed and laughed. And when Madi laughed, she had a twinkle in her eye. I loved to see that. That statement to me was so powerful, she understood her condition, and she understood its effects – at three years old. She went on to tell me about some of the scary stuff that she had been experiencing, including the scary mask. I sadly listened, and told her how brave she was. And she told me, “I can’t be brave, I’m just a little girl.” “No, Madi. You are very brave.” Brave isn’t just not being scared. It is doing the hard stuff, even though you are scared.

As Madi’s health declined, some weeks we read stories, and some weeks she just napped, while we guarded her from the other children as they played. But every week, she snacked. She had a powerful appetite, and she was happy to eat whatever snack we had that week. Last Sunday, I had the privilege of holding Madi in my arms, sitting in the rocker. We read the Little Mermaid, and we got to the part where Ariel finds a little fork. Ariel doesn’t know what to do with the fork. She thinks it is for combing your hair, and she calls it a “dingle-hopper”. We read that page over and over, and we laughed over and over. And when Madi laughed, even though she was so sick, she still had that twinkle in her eye.

Madi was always Madi. She was bright, and she had a great sense of humor. She was very articulate and had a lot to say. Some times, in the end, it took a while to understand her. But Madi was always very patient with me. She would wait for me until I understood what she was saying, and I would get the joke, and we both would laugh. My experiences with Madi are not extraordinary. I stand up here today, representing so many of you who had similar experiences with Madi. I know you each had moments when it was just the two of you, with experiences to share. No, my experiences with Madi are not extraordinary; Madi is extraordinary. Madi was indeed Miracle Madi Douglas, and each person will experience that miracle differently. This is how I see it, and this is how the miracle happened for me. It’s okay to tell the world you are a prince or a princess. But when you feel like a princess, but you need to act like a princess. When you know you are a prince, be a prince. Don’t sell yourself short. The faithful will always know their prayers are heard. And know their Heavenly Father’s blessing, and will see His hand in their life; regardless of the outcome. The less-than-faithful will explain away the outcome, regardless of the outcome. Now, I know that is a bold statement, but Madi’s life was bold. The miracle of Madi is profound and far-reaching. Find your miracle in Madi, write it down, and share it. I am so honored and humbled to have been asked to speak today, on this special occasion. I am indeed grateful to the Douglas family for asking me to do this. And I hope I have honored them in sharing experiences of Madi’s life. And I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Trey:   I would like to tell you about the plan of Happiness. Before we came to this earth, we lived with our Heavenly Father. We were born. We came to this Earth, and we lived our lives. And then someday, WE WILL DIE. And then we will go to the Spirit World. Where we will wait for judgment. And we will all be resurrected. We will all have the opportunity to be with Heavenly Father. And we will go to one of three places: like the sun, the moon or the stars. And we want to be in the sun. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.


Ryan: Trey spoke to us about the plan of Salvation.  The knowledge of this plan is very important.  Through this trial and difficult time many have asked how Angie and her family can be so strong.  Others read Madi’s website and have shared this difficult story with their friends and family because of the incredible strength and conviction that my sister represents, and all come away amazed.  That strength is drawn from the plan of Salvation as described by a 5 year old boy today, and the most important part of that plan is the most important event that has ever happened on the face of this earth – the Atonement of Jesus Christ. That wonderful event allows us to be cleansed and return to live with our Heavenly Father.  The plan of Happiness (or the Plan of Salvation) is made possible by the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  Through the Plan of Salvation we will be able to return and live with Him again, just as Trey told us.  Also, because of the knowledge of this plan, we should have great faith.  



Madi taught me how we should not worry about some of the big things in life, but we should have faith in our Heavenly Father.  He has a plan for us and is guiding each one of our lives.  As I spent time recently with Madi, we would spend our time together not worrying about the big problems that faced her, but we would focus on spending fun times together.  In Madi’s video you saw the picture of me, still in my pajamas, spending time with Madi.  Our conversations usually went something like this… “OPI Serena Glam Slam Set Match Serving of Sparkle.”  And then I would have to read the description as well – “OPI Grape match is a purple with an iridescent micro glitter nail polish color.”  Madi would encourage me to continue, “OPI Sparkle is a sheer silver base with a multi-sized, holographic glitter nail polish.” I would even have to read the other things like, “Electro-candy, neon collection nail polish set – seven piece.  One each of six best selling neon top coats – 0.6 oz. each, $19 on-line.”

Because of our Heavenly Father’s Plan, the Plan of Salvation or the Plan of Happiness, we are free to live our lives confident in His love for us and our future.  In Matthew 6:26, Jesus taught, “Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?” I am grateful for the Savior, and his atoning sacrifice for each one of us. I am grateful for the opportunity to share these tender moments that I shared with my niece Madi with you today.  I thank you all for being here. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.


Bishop: The service that we are having today is patterned after the service that we have every week. While today we have a service in memory of Madi, each Sunday, we have a service in memory of Jesus Christ. We call it the Sacrament, and we remember his life, his death and his resurrection. After the service today, the video that was playing at the beginning will be played again, and you are welcome to watch that. Afterwards, we will break down the chairs and have a reception, where the Douglas family will receive you. We will now hear remarks from Jay and then from Angie. Following their remarks, we will have a special musical number by the Flat Rock primary. They will be singing, “Families can be together forever” and “I am a Child of God”. The congregation will join in after the first verse. The Benediction will be given by Tom Hammond. 

Now, we have up here the cousins: Jessica, Austin, Cali, Riley, Ashton, Ella, Jackson and Taylor and Trey. And they are going to sing, “Give Said the Little Stream”, accompanied by Tom.

Jay:      There are various ways to measure a life: the most common is to add up the days, months and years. By that measure, Madi’s life came up woefully short. But, you could also count the number of fingernails polished, taquitos eaten, pictures taken, or the number of sleepless nights you cause your parents – and by those measures, I think she did just fine. Of course, at the end of the day, the measure of a complete life is probably best determined by the number of people you affect. And as I look out over this group, and review the endless stream of emails and blog posts and phone calls and messages, I can tell that hers was a full and dynamic life, more complete than many of us will achieve no matter how long we live on this earth.

One of the worst things about the disease that she suffered, was how it supplanted many of the best memories that we have of Madi. And for many people who only came to know Madi through the blog, you never had the pleasure of witnessing the unencumbered joy and ferocious approach she took to life. She had a rebellious spirit (which she undoubtedly got from her mom) that I was sure was going to cause me endless frustrations and grief when she reached her teenage years.



You could not tell her to do anything, but had to use subterfuge and trickery to get her to do the simplest tasks like getting dressed or eating dinner. To get her to eat anything more than a hot dog, we played this game called “Para” (Stop! in Spanish, where Madi would run laps around the kitchen, and every-time she got close to me, I would have a bite of food ready, and say “Para” and she would slow down just enough to eat. I guess I have Dora the Explorer to thank for keeping her from starving…

When Derek was born, Angie’s mom, Toni, came out for a while to help us get adjusted to three kids. She took one look at our dinnertime, with the endless struggles and silly games we used to get Madi to eat, and Toni was of course appalled. She took it upon herself to show us how a dinner was supposed to be done, and so one day, I came home from work to find the table set, Trey and Madi sullenly in their chairs, and Toni determined to have a traditional dinner. But, I believe the phrase goes that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. It wasn’t long before two spiritual giants clashed over eating the thoughtfully prepared broccolis and chicken. I probably don’t even need to say it, but we had an ample supply of leftovers from that meal.

I had the greatest job in the world. I would come home every evening, to rescue Madi from eating her dinner or from whatever chore Angie had her performing. She would hear the door open, and come tearing around the corner, screaming out: “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” and come tearing around the corner into my arms. You can’t hear that every day without feeling like the world’s greatest hero. I trained her so well, in fact, that one day I met Angie and the kids for lunch at Chik-fil-a. Madi didn’t know I was coming, and when she saw me enter the restaurant, she jumped out of her chair and yelled out as loud as she could: “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” All conversations stopped, every head turned to look at us, and everyone watched as she ran into my arms. I looked over and saw Robert May from our Finance department, and he started to give me some good-natured ribbing. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I think it was something along the lines of “well if you greeted me that way when I came down to visit your floor, I would be excited to see you too.” Whatever mild embarrassment I felt was vastly outweighed by the pride and love I felt for my girl.

When she first got sick, she still just had to get up and come running to me. It wasn’t long before she had to walk while holding onto the walls. Once she could no longer walk, she would call my name, and when she could no longer speak, she would smile and her face would brighten as I came to her.

Madi had a marvelously large heart that opened to anybody and everybody. She was an indiscriminate hugger and kisser, and I was terrified to think of what we would do with her dating.

She was 100% princess – she loved dresses, shoes, nail polish, tiaras, lipstick- you name it, and she loved it. When we went to Disney World with the Make-a-Wish Foundation, Madi was already beginning her decline. Walking was a chore, and she just felt bad. Because she was feeling so poor, she spent much of her time in her stroller, with the sun-shade pulled down. But when we got to meet the Disney princesses, she was so excited, she wanted to look her best, and dressed herself up like whatever princess she was going to meet. She would get the biggest smile on her face and was not shy at all about meeting royalty. Of course, we had to spend the rest of the day running into every store, looking for just the right glass slippers to complete her outfit. And, of course, there was no shortage of people willing to enable her in her quest to fulfill any princess-based wish she had. 

When we were preparing for my sister Dianna’s wedding, just months before Madi was diagnosed, Angie had to take her shopping. They go into the store, and Angie is buying Madi this beautiful pin-tucked white dress. Madi, of course, loved it. Posing in front of the mirror, swishing it back and forth, twirling, preening. When it comes time to actually buy the dress, Angie needed to take the dress off of her to check out. Madi breaks down screaming and crying. Angie finally distracts her long enough to quickly unzip the dress and pull it off her. She wrestles the other clothes back on her. Angie goes to check out, while Madi vocalizes her dissatisfaction at the situation for all the store to hear. Angie finally turns, and finds that Madi has managed to strip out of her clothes and is screaming that she is a princess and needs her princess dress. This is an event that played itself out in varying degrees every Sunday whenever she had to change her church dress back into boring pants and shirts.

As you can tell, Madi loved dresses. She also loved to take Angie’s shirts and turn them into dresses – a practice that drove Angie crazy. There was one particular shirt- silvery and shiny- that she would sneak into Angie’s closet to get a hold of. Due to her diminutive size, it made for a plunging neckline and scandalous backing. She could have been walking a red carpet… I was her partner in crime, and would get twisty ties and belts to help make her up. Angie would walk in and say something like, “What are you doing? Why are you encouraging this?” To which I would summarily answer, “Madi asked me.” Man, it drove her crazy…

You cannot talk about Madi without telling the story of her final eight months. And there are two ways to tell that story. The first, and perhaps the one that first draws us in first, is to look at it and see the gross unfairness of this disease, where you have watched a little girl with her brightness and effervescent be slowly robbed of her faculties and of her ability to walk, to speak, to move, and even her will to live. And while that story is not untrue, there is another story to tell, which involves a girl with an indomitable spirit who was quick to adapt to the situation in which she found herself. Who, despite all odds, and despite the obstacles placed in front of her, was quick to laugh, and to smile. Who, when you would pick her up to carry her from the table to the couch, would say “thank you” and upon request would give you a kiss on the cheek.

The story, I think for us the last 8 months, is a story of overwhelming love: both from her and directed at her. She was a means of focusing and harnessing the love of our neighbors, our friends, our family and community, in a way in which I don’t think we ever would have seen in any other circumstance. And so, while the last 8 months have been hard, they have been amazing. Amazing in the way in which we interact with her; amazing in the way it has changed our view on life and the humanity of those around us.

Emerson wrote that “Infancy is the perpetual Messiah, that comes into the arms of fallen men and pleads with them to return to paradise”.  Madi had a way of touching the divine spark within each of us, and all of us were motivated to do more. I could not even begin to list the innumerable ways in which people were inspired to help us (well I could, but y’all would be quickly bored, as this one hour service turns into 3). This has renewed, not just my faith in humanity, but my faith in the divine potential of mankind. If our goal in this life is to be more like our Savior, then Madi has helped us along that path.

Trey, who gets a kick out of being silly, and slightly irreverent (must have gotten that from his grandfather), was a wonderful brother to Madi. They were best friends, and when she got sick, every prayer he said included praying for the tumor to disappear, and praying for her to be healed. Remarkable maturity for a boy that also prayed constantly for the x-box to be fixed.  Of course, fixing the x-box was an easier task than getting Madi healed.

In some ways, I feel like I have gotten less wise, less intelligent. There is a song out on the radio right now that says something along the lines of “It seems like everywhere I go, the more I see, the less I know.” Where I once knew the answer to questions on life and death, trials and pain, I now struggle to make sense of the terrible suffering of a child. I don’t know why she got sick. I don’t know why she never experienced the anticipated grace period. And I don’t know why she had to leave us so soon.

But I believe everything will be all right. I believe that she has finally been healed by the Great Physician. And I believe that she is finally able to run and cause chaos like she wanted, but was unable, to do here. I love her and will miss her terribly, but I have a hope and faith that she is now in the presence of someone who loves her as much as we do. And I say this in the name of our Savior Jesus Christ.

Now, before I step down and let Angie speak, I don’t think you realize, but we all need an Angie in our lives. Someone who can keep it all together and help us. I was fortunate to be able to just be along for the ride. I would come home, and everything would be done. I could come home, sit on the couch and say things like, “Angie, shouldn’t you post a blog update? Angie, shouldn’t this be getting done? Shouldn’t that?” She is remarkable, she has done so much for so long, and has worked so hard and sacrificed so much. I am so grateful for her. And she deserves to have the last word for her daughter.

Angie: That was his last-ditch effort to try and make me lose it. It was a close one. He almost did it. For those of you who criticized me for being up at 2:00 in the morning, trying to fix this program, now you can see why. It was absolutely perfect. Someone told me that at Wynnton, when they were practicing singing for Madi, one little boy got up and said, “Guys, we have to sing loud enough for Madi to hear us!” I think I know who that was…



I think that Madi knew that she didn’t have a lot of time with us. When she was born, she hit the ground running. When she was nine days old, she went in to get her passport. They asked her what color her eyes were? They didn’t have color yet. What color her hair was. She didn’t have hair.  Turns out her eyes were one blue and one green. We never would have guessed that. At 6-weeks, she went to Paris, London, Madrid, Morocco.  Later that year, she saw the big mountains in Utah. Followed a month later with a trip to the Dominican Republic to see the beaches there. She did everything early: she started walking at 9-months, started talking at 10-months, started swimming at 15-months, jumped off the diving board at 17-months, stopped napping before she was a year old, and just didn’t need to sleep (I don’t know where she got that from). She learned everything fast, she was a very quick learner. And thank goodness that when we got to the time when she couldn’t speak, that I had taught her to spell.  There were times when I didn’t know what she was saying, and I would just beg, “Please Madi, just tell me what it starts with.” If I still couldn’t get it, she would figure out another way to tell me. And the associations that she would come up with to help me understand what she was talking about were amazing.

She also didn’t have any time to be shy. Like Jay said, she didn’t hold back from anybody. She didn’t have time to let herself warm up to you. When we would take her to her class at Wynnton, her classroom was all the way down at the end of the hall. She would take off running. She would run to the end of the hall and stop at the corner to the classroom. She would peak around the corner, and then jump into the room, yelling “Ta-Da!!” And wait for Ms. Cathy or Ms. Leigh to say, “MADI!!!” She had to make an entrance every morning. And then she would see her friends and go, “Bonnie!” [hug], “William” [hug], “Abigail” [hug], “Tregar” [hug]. In return, he would keep his hands by his side and scrunch up his face. I would say, “Madi, not everyone is a morning person.”

One time, my mom was here, and we had a family friend whom we had known for years and whom we hadn’t seen for a long time after they moved to southern Georgia. We drove out to see their family –they have 11 kids and a million grandkids, so he was used to kids running all over him. Madi jumped right up into his lap and snuggled right into him. He said, “My own grandkids don’t warm up to me this fast!” Well, then she started licking his face. I told her to stop, that it was disgusting. She said, “But, momma, I’m just giving him a dow-ggie kiss.” She really liked to pretend that she was a dog.

I think that because she knew she would have a short life, she had to figure out how to inspire the most people. I think she nailed it. She has taught us how to be so courageous, and to face our fears. And I think that is why she didn’t like the word “brave”. She didn’t like people to tell her she was brave. She wanted us to know that she was scared. She was scared of everything. But she did it anyway. She faced it and plowed through it.

When she was first diagnosed, Jay and I joked that every kid in America was thanking Madi, because no one got in trouble that day. But I think that she gave us perspective. She inspired us to be what we wanted to be, and to do what we wanted to do.

Madi and I did not do this alone. We were not this strong on our own. We had a lot of help. I had so many awesome friends and family, both here and in Atlanta, that did so many things for us. And they did so many things for her: whether it was people at the hospital, or people at church, or people at Wynnton. I would take her there, and they would take care of her. Special care. Such that I had no problem taking her there and leaving her with them. And we had the knowledge of the love of our Savior, and it gave us strength. It was a huge source of strength for us, and it buoyed us up. And I feel so indebted to all of you. I cannot even begin to start to say one thing, because then I would go on forever. I finally had to just ditch the thank you cards, and instead I tried to share two of my precious things with you: I tried to share Madi with you. She was so amazing, and I was thankful for that blog, because it helped me, but it also let me share her with you. And through that to inspire you through her experience to do those things that you wanted to do and be those things you wanted to be. And the other thing I wanted to share with you was my knowledge of the Savior, and what He can do for us. This was a precious gift to me, and I hope that you were able to learn something through this experience.

When a loved one passes away, something that is hard to deal with is that there is always something there to remind you of them. There are a million things in my house that are going to remind me of her. I started asking some of my friends what are some of the things that will remind them of Madi. There were the obvious things like purple, and nail polish, and lip gloss. And someone said, Scrambled Eggs. I had forgotten how much she liked scrambled eggs…she would eat like four at a time. Tiaras. Noodles. Dive-sticks. She loved swimming, dress-up and cupcakes. I would take trays of cupcakes into Wynnton, and they would ask if it was her birthday, to which I would reply that, no, it was just a cupcake day. Monster’s Inc. …

There were ten of my friends who had babies within days of Madi. Their kids will always remind me of Madi. And it is going to be hard with all these things that remind us of her. But what I’m hoping is that every time you see those things throughout your life, that you will be reminded and be inspired to be those things you wanted to be and do those things you wanted to do. So that her life, as short as it was, will have meant so much.

I believe in the doctrines of the plan of happiness that we talked about, and I believe in the doctrines of the Atonement. And I know that Madi lives again because of the resurrection, that we will all live again. And that as hard as this is, the Atonement makes up for all suffering, whether sickness or sin. This will all be made up to us. And I leave this with you in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.





Tom:   Our Father In Heaven; As we come to the close of this memorial service for Madison Kay Douglas, we express our love to Thee. And we are grateful for Thy Spirit that has attended this meeting, and we are grateful unto thee for sharing Madi with us for this short duration; for this tremendous blessing and for touching multiple lives. We know of the love for Thy children. “Suffer the little children to come unto me, for such is the kingdom of heaven.” Our little Madi has returned unto Thee. We are grateful for this time. We ask a special blessing that our lives will have been touched by her influence, that families will love each other a little bit better; that we will be a little bit more tolerant of each other; that we will try to live our lives just a little bit better because of this sweet spirit. We are so grateful for Thy son and for His atonement, which makes it possible for us to have an eternal perspective; that we might see her again, and that families can be together forever. We ask a special blessing on Jay and Angie, Trey and Derek. Bring peace to their family; bring peace unto their lives. We are so grateful for this program and for all who have participated; sharing their thoughts and songs and praise unto Thee. We are grateful for all those who have attended; for Madi’s family, friends and acquaintances. We are grateful for the blessings that we have. We dedicate these services unto Thee for the remembering of our Madi, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.