Kurt's funeral remarks - Four lessons I learned from Madi through this trial

Before I begin, I’d also like to share some context for our closing hymn, How Firm a Foundation. Madison loved music more than she hated needle pokes, which is saying a lot. So on our frequent car rides to the hospital where she had to get needles inserted, she’d play music to get “pumped up” and ready for the needle. Initially she listened to “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten, but before long, we started the tradition of listening to daddy’s fight song, and then we’d listen Madi’s fight song. And the thing is, daddy loves the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. So in my feeble effort to instill my values in her, we’d crank up the volume and sing the Mack Wilberg version of this song on every trip to the hospital. This tradition really helped calm Madi’s needle fears. So I hope in honor of Madi, you will “crank up the volume” and sing Madi’s closing “Fight Song” with all your might.

I’d like to discuss four of Madi’s character attributes that have helped me learn how to handle really hard things. Each of us is struggling with trials in our own way, often in private, and I hope these lessons from Madi can be helpful to you in some way.

First, humor. Madi was a very funny girl! As a young child, she lived in two different worlds – Madi world, and the real world. And the fun thing was that she developed a large vocabulary at a very young age, and she narrated what was happening in Madi world, in real time. When she was 3 years old, I was trying to get her to do something, I don’t remember what. She didn’t want to do it, so she ran upstairs, and I slowly followed after her. When I got upstairs, Madi was nowhere to be found. I went to check the bedrooms, but as I passed the bathroom, I heard a little voice saying, “Madi laid very still in the bottom of the bathtub so that her dad couldn’t find her.”

When she got older, she loved to write her own jokes. A few of my favorites, “Why did the cow jump over the moon? Because he needed more space.” “Why should you never agree to babysit a candle? Because they always melt down.” And my personal favorite because it is so cerebral and so Madi, “Whose music do UPS drivers listen to? Bach’s [box] music.” Another example of Madi’s humor is a story told by her aunt Melissa. She says, “One of my favorite memories of Madi was when she was about 6 or 7. We were at Grandma Rockwood’s house for our annual and beloved Cousin’s Camp. As I was sitting in the kitchen, I looked over and saw Madi start to come down the stairs.  She stumbled and almost fell, but then caught herself. Not knowing that I was watching her, she exhaled with relief and said, 'It’s a good thing I ate Lucky Charms for breakfast this morning!’ The most endearing part about this story is that Madi probably did believe the Lucky Charms helped her."

She used this humor to make the cancer trial more bearable. After her 2nd surgery, she initially couldn’t use her left arm very well. The connections in her brain needed to rewire. So she joked that it was her “robot arm” and would often say, “go, go, gadget arm!” when she was trying to get it to do something. More recently, she landed back in the hospital due to a series of seizures. Because of a combination of the seizures and the medications used to stop them, she slept for almost 24 hours. At that point, the nurses had to change her bed linens and her clothes, so she was lying on the bed with just a towel draped over her. She started to rouse a bit from sleep, and having not talked with her in 24 hours, we were anxious to see how she was doing. We hovered over her and said, “Madi, how are you feeling?” Her feeble response, “I’m feeling…slightly under-dressed.” She couldn’t change her circumstance, so she changed her attitude.

Second, Kindness. Madi’s friends and peers have often remarked that Madi was the nicest person they ever met. She was a friend to all, and a supreme gift-giver. When she was old enough to babysit our kids, over several months she earned something like $100, which was a lot of money for her age. I assumed she’d use it to buy something big for herself, but instead she spent almost all of it on Christmas gifts for her siblings and parents.

After the cancer diagnosis, the hospital would often let her pick out gifts at certain milestones of her treatment. She found more joy in picking out gifts for her siblings than for herself. Last month she worked with the Make-a-Wish foundation to plan a dream trip to Orlando. From the very beginning, she asked to keep it a secret from her siblings so she could surprise them on the morning of the trip. By focusing on others and the joy of giving, she was able to find joy in the midst of her trial.

She and our family have also been on the receiving end of tremendous kindness from friends and strangers alike. I could speak for an hour on this subject alone, but given time constraints, for now I will just say that we have learned from all of you what it truly means to care for the sick and needy, and we are forever in your debt.

Third, Gratitude.  Madi always went out of her way to say thank you for what she’d been given. After her first surgery, she shared a room with a little girl who had epilepsy. After hearing her story, Madi commented to Jenn, “Mom, we are so lucky. It could be so much worse.” She didn’t understand the gravity of her diagnosis at the time, but she had just been through an unexpected emergency brain surgery to remove a very large tumor, and she still found a way to be grateful. On December 22^nd, Madi found herself in the ER in Indiana for the second time in 3 days. The nurse had a hard time inserting an IV needle into her port, which meant she stuck a 1 inch needle directly into Madi’s chest multiple times. It was an incredibly hard day for this poor girl, but as we pushed her out of the ER in a wheelchair, she chirped “Thank you!” and “Merry Christmas!” to each of the staff in the ER.

Jenn and I have used gratitude as a coping mechanism during the past year as well. The doctors said that Madi was just hours or days from death last April when her brain cancer was discovered. We have cherished each day with Madi since then as a gift we’ve been given from God. As hard as it has been to lose 2 children in 3 months, Jenn has found stories of her ancestors who lived not too long ago who lost even more children than that. Today, in 2018, there are millions of refugees throughout the world who have lost their children in addition to their homes and homelands. To quote Madi, “We are so lucky. It could be so much worse.” We had 12 wonderful years with Madi, and we still have 4 beautiful healthy children, for which we are profoundly grateful.

Fourth, Eternal perspective.  From a young age we’ve taught Madi our beliefs about where we come from, why we’re here, and where we go when we die. We call this the Plan of Salvation or the Plan of Happiness. Placing this current experience in that broader context has provided immense peace and comfort to our family. As background, I’d like to read from a talk that Madi gave at our church last August. Quote,  “I was asked to speak today on the plan of salvation. When I think of the plan of salvation, I think of a number line. It goes back for infinity, then there’s a really short line where we are on earth, and then it goes on forever after our time here is done. Elder Packer compared the plan of salvation to a three-act play, where our life before earth was Act 1. Our time in mortality is Act 2, and our time after death is Act 3. He said: 

"In mortality, we are like one who enters a theater just as the curtain goes up on the second act. We have missed Act I. The production has many plots and sub-plots that interweave, making it difficult to figure out who relates to whom and what relates to what, who are the heroes and who are the villains. It is further complicated because you are not just a spectator; you are a member of the cast, on stage, in the middle of it all! ... Remember this! The line ‘And they all lived happily ever after’ is never written into the second act. That line belongs in the third act when the mysteries are solved and everything is put right.” To bring some eternal perspective, I’d like to discuss each Act as they relate to Madi.

So Act 1. We believe that Madi, like all of us, existed as a spirit before she was born. We are spirit children of a loving Father in Heaven who created us and gave us opportunities to mature and develop in His presence. But there was a limit to our progression there, so we are given the opportunity to receive a body in this world, to experience love and joy but also pain and hardship, to develop and grow further. Shortly after Jenn and I were married, we each, separately, had a very clear impression that our first child would be a girl, that we knew her, and that she was very excited to come and join us. I know that Madi as a spirit existed before this life, and that she – her Spirit – was a part of our family even before she had a body. That was Act 1.


Act 2. We had 12 wonderful years with Madi, which you’ve heard much about already today. Sometimes people say “What a tragedy that Madi’s life was cut so short.” While the separation from Madi is heartbreakingly difficult, I do not believe her life was cut short. She lived exactly as long as she was supposed to live on this earth, and not a day less. Each of us has a mission in life - certain things we are expected to accomplish. I think Madi’s mission was to struggle and fight through this cancer, and together with her mom, share her experience in a way that would be an inspiration to thousands of people all over the world, which will have a ripple effect for years to come. Madi spread so much goodness in the world in 12 years through her struggle with cancer, perhaps as much as she could have done if she had lived 80 years without cancer. She fulfilled her personal mission with flying colors, and it is now time for her to move on.


Act 3. Now Madi has graduated to the next phase of her growth and development. Just as surely as I know that she existed before she was born, I know she continues to be part of our family now that she has died. I like the imagery in this quote from Parley P Pratt, an early Apostle in our church. "Their kindred spirits, their guardian angels then hover about them with the fondest affection…With what tenderness of love…they watch over our slumbers, hang about our pillow, and seek…to communicate with our spirits, to warn us of dangers or temptations, to comfort and soothe our sorrow, or to ward off the ills which might befall us, or perchance to give us some kind token of remembrance or undying love!" 

We have lost Madi’s physical presence, but Madi’s spirit will still be here with us. She’ll continue to be a great big sister, providing support to her younger siblings, when and where and how they need it, and often in ways she couldn’t have if she were still physically here.  I’m quite sure Madi is very happy now. She was in her element whenever she had a book in her hand.  Now she has access to a “celestial library” so to speak and I’m sure is soaking in so much knowledge and insight. And I know if we live our lives in the right way, in the quiet moments we’ll be able to feel her near and know of her love for us, and she’ll know of our love for her. One day, before we know it, we will be reunited with Madi again, cancer-free and full of joy. Because of the resurrection provided through the sacrifice of our Savior Jesus Christ, “The soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame” (Alma 40:23). 


I cannot wait to hear from Madi what great things she has accomplished during Act 3. I know she will be close by us always, and we will be reunited with her again, never to part, and this time without her will seem like a small blip in the grand scheme.  I am so grateful for the peace this knowledge brings to our family, and so grateful for the example that Madi was to all of us throughout her life. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.