MacKenzie Stuck

I have a tattoo on my left ribcage to honor MacKenzie. It's a short phrase that was inked on my body forever on October 27, 2010 eight days after she left us. In two days, I'll make an addition in ink to honor my little super-hero Boh, a four year old I cared for who left us three weeks ago after a battle with neuroblastoma.

I see Kenzie in a lot of places, and in a lot of ways. But the most shocking way was how I saw her in Boh.

When I delivered my speech about Kenz during her celebration of life, I talked about her hugs. She would hold you so tight, like she never really needed to let go. She'd hug you and then you'd forget about all of the things you had to do, all of the places you had to be. The first time Boh hugged me the way Kenzie use to, I thought I was going to fall over. Not from the weight of him, he was barely three years old at the time, but from the weight of all the memories that came back like I was hugging Kenzie once again.

"I love you, Nictoe" Kenzie would say when Lauren and I would leave the hospital.

"Love you Torya, thanks for staying with me" Boh would say when I would leave for school in the morning.

Despite their differences in age, gender, and illnesses the similarities between these two is unsettling and magical all at the same time. I will never understand why they both had to be taken so young, the thought of it infuriates and confuses me. I will also never understand how I got so lucky as to have two heroes in this lifetime whom I have loved and effected by in so many ways.

I spent their last days with them alongside their amazing families, sleeping on floors and holding hands. I remember the last times I held and hugged them. But mostly, I remember them as being a beautiful princess, sparkling personality and doing cartwheels in front of a big yellow house. I remember them as being a strong superhero, flowing red cape, giggling on the swing set.

So now whenever I get hungry for marshmallow flavored popcorn, or have the urge to put my Goldfish crackers in milk, I wrap myself up in the memories of my princess Kenz and superhero Boh and try my best to not be knocked over.

~ Victoria Niemeyer

I wish that I had the privilege to have known MacKenzie. This beautiful, giving, happy child who is now an angel has touched so many people.

I received the "MacKenzie Award" from the Cool Kids Campaign last month and have learned so much about MacKenzie. When I was told that I would be awarded the "Mackenzie Award", I asked Chris what MacKenzie was like and to tell me about this sweet child. Well, I now know all of her favorite every things. From the day of her diagnosis, to her favorite colors, flavors, games and her love of things that sparkle. Most of all her caring for others and her contagious smile. I can only hope that MacKenzie somehow knows what she has started in The Cool Kids Campaign. Because of Mackenzie, so many children and their families have had the opportunity to join our Cool Kids family.
I'm sure she smiles down on us while we make care packages and the children are getting help with their school work, or making a craft.

So I wasn't fortunate enough to met you sweet angel, but I have met your parents, some of your family and friends. Therefore, I feel I have met you through them.

I know you are the brightest, most sparkly star in the sky and I am honored to receive an award that is in your loving memory.

Patty Douglas

~ P Douglas

One of my special memories of MacKenzie took place during Christmas week. I had arrived to help Steve after his surgery. It began to snow and we had no tree or decorations for the holidays. We wanted a tree and MacKenzie said she had a miniature tree at home that she would bring over. Actually she brought a pink tree for her room and a green tree for downstairs. We put it on a small stool her great grandpa had made. Then she pulled out all the little ornaments, lights and a star. She and Nikki began to take turns decorating the tree with MacKenzie directing us on how she wanted it to be done. Steve started a Christmas movie, and I prepared our party food platter. Finally the angel was to be placed and MacKenize wanted her dad to place it on top. Tree lights and one blessed angel shining in the dark room created a magical moment. We took pictures and life moved on. The simplest of moments had passed but will never be forgotten by me.

Grandma Norma

~ norma stuck

This is my absolutely favorite photo of MacKenzie. And there are hundreds of great Kenzie pictures. But if someone asked me to try to summarize who she was this photo perfectly illustrates her spirit, optimism and courage.

MacKenzie always made sure everyone around her was happy. Which isn't necessarily an unusual trait. The world is full of people who want to make others happy. But how many are able to accomplish that while struggling through four brain tumors and the very real physical effects caused by the surgeries and treatments. Even if you wanted to be uplifting and courageous, it's nearly impossible due to the side effects of chemo and surgery. But MacKenzie achieved this in spades.

As her treatments went on Kenz was left with a slower, shakier speech pattern. While I know this was primarily due to the surgeries, I always had the distinct feeling that it was also MacKenzie taking the time to really think through what she wanted to say. She was always careful to make sure that what she said would put people at ease with her situation and not draw any additional attention or sympathy to what she was going through. I always had a sense that she knew her time might be short and she wanted to be sure to leave people with a sense of happiness when they would think of her. And to say she succeeded would be an understatement.

~ Sharon Perfetti

Which story should I share about the sunny, loving, spark plug, MacKenzie? I could write about the time that we all went to the circus together and Sierra and MacKenzie lined up, giggling and nervous, as a clown jumped over their bald heads. Or maybe I should share the story of the super-fun time that our family and her family piled into a stretch limo together and drove to the area high school to watch a production of High School Musical which was based on my daughter Sierra's very favorite movie. Or all the times in the hospital Sierra and MacKenzie would go visit each other, whoever was feeling the strongest and least worn out by chemo running over to see the one who needed to stay in bed that day. There were thoughtful presents exchanged to make hospital and recovery times more bearable. And the hugs! So many hugs shared. MacKenzie's signature wrap-around-you-like-a-monkey-on-a-tree hugs. Hugs with no equal.

There were dinners, and birthday parties, and board games, and nail painting, and surgical mask blinging sessions, and movies.

There was the final time we visited MacKenzie when she was on hospice at home, and when it came time for us to leave, my son, who loves Kenzie as he loves no other, said he didn't want to go and wanted to sleep on the floor by her bed in the living room so he could help her with anything she might need.

There are so many funny, great, bittersweet, heartwarming memories to chose from, but one that especially makes me smile is the time Kenzie came to Sierra's birthday party at Kiss N' Makeup in kitschy Hampden. Kenzie was undergoing treatment and had been inpatient and in isolation for a long stretch. She was pretty pale and not feeling the strongest, and in one of her adorable bald phases. The party was at a salon in a famous Hon section of Baltimore, so we stopped over to a shop down the road and got Kenzie a big, black beehive wig to surprise her. She got all dolled up with a glamor makeover and sashayed around in her huge beehive all afternoon, laughing, striking poses for the camera, being the light in the world she always was, regardless of the medical struggles she faced.

We feel so lucky that we got to know all of the incredible members of the Stuck family, and hold each of them in our hearts with the most tender love.

Thank you for sharing MacKenzie with us and being our friends. She changed us all and we are grateful. We think and speak of Kenzie often, and when I do, I glance down at the M tattooed on my wrist and smile.

Miss you tons and tons, sweetheart.

~ Julie Ayers

How often do we go through life and have the opportunity to meet someone who has a direct impact on your life? For me, one such person came into my life when I was facing many adversities and I thank God quite often to know MacKenzie Stuck. She was an inspiration by her one word motto, Believe!
Through her actions not so much her words, did she enforce the true value of doing what is right and never giving up. Hard to believe she was 13 when she passed and to have this influence on others, but those with cancer have a tendency to bring out the best in themselves and others.
You are missed MacKenzie, but you will never be forgotten!

Chris Federico

~ chris federico

Where can I possibly start?
The pre “C-Monster” competitive gymnast with six-pack abs, a winning smile, indomitable spirit & the mischievousness of a pixie?

She continued that with Cheerleading like big sis Katie and supporting Katie’s Cheer team with spirit even when not really feeling up to it.

Though she was initially afraid of losing her hair she quickly became accustomed to being bald or with short hair, and took the opportunity to change colors when the mood or occasion suited her like pink for Easter!

How about the girl who gave it all with grace and comforted others as she was suffering, almost always smiling & looking to help others less fortunate enjoy their lives? Soliciting the kids of the community to donate toys & collecting and delivering 10s of thousands of them to the Hopkins Children’s Center because she felt a kid going through treatments like hers “should get more than a sticker.”

My most personal memories are of my first holidays on my own, and bitter-sweetly, Kenzie’s last. I broke my arm the day before Thanksgiving & if not for Kenz, we wouldn’t have had a turkey – I simply could not prep & stuff a turkey with one arm! Before Christmas that year I had arm surgery & though my Mom thankfully came to help, as anyone who knew Kenz would not be surprised, (she was the “bling” queen) she & Nikki created many handmade “snowflakes” to hang in the windows to spruce up my place. Kenz was justifiably proud to have created a Christmas wreath for the front door of my little townhouse that of course I still use every season.

How about the big sister who even near the end was more concerned about her little sister?

Or the girl with faith in our Lord beyond measure?
When the Doctor told her about her 4th tumor & that there was nothing more they could do he asked her:
Dr: “Do you know what could happen?
Kenz: “I could die”
Dr: “Are you afraid to die?”
Kenz: “No”
Dr: “What do you think will happen when you die?”
Kenz: “I’ll go to Heaven & meet Jesus.”

Just like that. If only we all had such faith!

Happy 4th Angel Birthday in Heaven sweetie 10.19.2014. – we love you & miss you. Until we meet again. Love, Dad

~ Steve Stuck

I do not remember Mackenzie in big moments or events. Rather, she comes back to me as a constellation of small glimpses, stomach-aching feelings, and distinct smells:
Her favorite way to eat corn: frozen, and right out of the bag.
Her crooked, ever-present smile with the chipped front tooth, the result of jumping too high on our parents' bed.
My excitement, almost visceral, when the elevator doors opened to her floor at Hopkins. I would run to her room just so I could beat my other sisters to the spot in bed next to her.
Her red-orange 3-piece outfit that she almost never took off the year she was 5.
Her perfect, round head.
My sister was a lot of things to a lot of people, but this is what she was to me. She is a lot of other things too, but like I said, they come back to me in small glimpses. Today, at this moment, this is how I see her.

~ Lauren Stuck

Her hands. I remember her hands and her long fingers with always perfect and strong nails. No matter what treatment she was enduring, her fingers, nails, and hands always seemed elegant and unwavering.
I specifically remember one time after a round of strong treatment Kenz's hands were in terrible shape. Her skin was peeling off in thick chunks, but it didn't seem to bother her. Lo and I sat there for hours cutting off the dead skin from her hands but it never phased her. She sat there with her perfectly polished purple glitter nails and smiled that ever so present smile that never leaves me.
Getting our nails done together was "our thing". The two of us were the "girly girls" out of the 4 girls and that was always something that we shared; getting our nails done together everything few weekends.
I miss her hands that grasped mine so tight--reassuring me that everything would be ok as if I was the sick one.

~ Katie Stuck

Sometimes love is about all the little things in life. For me, it means that I can never look at Dr. Pepper, or listen to the All-American Rejects, in the same way again, that I will forever have to answer to my friends why I have so many purple things in my room, that I am still afraid to play Uno with someone, even though I played it hundreds, maybe thousands of times with MacKenzie.

Sometimes love makes all the big things even more monumental, life-defining. I remember the exact moment when I first met MacKenzie - it was on April 2, 2008, a few minutes after 1 pm, just after the start of my shift as a volunteer on the 4th floor at the Johns Hopkins Children’s Center. I had just brought a bingo board to her room, and I was awestruck by her hair that day, a beautiful red orange that rose against gravity, like a brilliant flame. That afternoon we would play the first of those hundreds of games of Uno. (I lost that game, and many more after that.) I remember almost everything about the night when her family called to tell me that she had died. It was on October 19th, 2010, shortly before midnight. I was on my neurology rotation in my third year of medical school, and I started that night thinking how wonderful it was that I had the next day off (even though it was a weekday). I cried most of that night on the floor of my apartment, and fell asleep sometime between 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning.

And between those two years, came everything else, all the memories that I still have of her, the fragments that come up in my mind when I feel particularly sentimental on any day. I remember the giddy feeling of walking out of a Build-a-Bear store, with a bear in a house-shaped box, a brown bear with purple angel wings. I felt like a boy about to go on his first date with someone he had a crush on, and I still remember her smile when I gave that bear to her at her birthday party, three weeks later. I remember that first summer I spent almost every day with her in the hospital while she went through her double transplant, holding her hand when her mouth hurt too much from mucositis. I remember telling her and her family that I had gotten into medical school, how sincerely excited they were for me, but at the same time sad because it meant that I was leaving for New York City. I remember the feeling of walking through the door to the Stucks’ home every time that I would visit, the sound of the fluttering footsteps that would rush to me, the force of a surprisingly powerful hug that would knock me to the ground, and what follows, a warmth that reminded how lucky I was to be loved by her, how lucky I was to have found something, someone to believe in, especially in my profession.

And here we are, 4 years after her passing, I still have her pictures at my bedside. I still can hear the little voicemails of love she had left on my phone, even though unfortunately AT&T had erased them such that I can never play them back again. And I have a seemingly lifetime’s worth of stories about a little girl, unknown to most of my friends, stories that I draw strength from when I am down, when I have a bad day at work. I am in the third year of my residency in internal medicine, still in New York City, well on my way to be an independent, practicing physician. And I still miss her, every single day.

~ Bill Zhang

I first met MacKenzie at the Cool Kids Golf Event in 2007. I remember getting "Goose Bumps" as she spoke -- my first introduction to the "MacKenzie Magnet" -- her spirit and courage pulled you in !

Each following year, at the annual golf event, I would again feel the pull of the "MacKenzie Magnet" with the same afterglow. After each of the annual golf events, I returned to my other life of business, charity events, and working with hundreds of athletes at Special Olympics Maryland. As time moved away from the Cool Kids golf event, the "Mackenzie Magnet" pull, grew weaker, simply due to other demands.

Now , there is great news -- this past September, I was honored to receive "Mackenzie's Award." I have the award mounted where I see it regularly -- The "MacKenzie Magnet" is always nearby, pulling me back to the spirit of an Angel.

~ Rick Gesue