I'm going to be very personal for a minute. I hope that's OK. It's not pretty and it won't leave you with happy, happy feel good stuff, but it's a part of who I am and I wanted to share with our readers.

September represents so much deep stuff for me. I became a mother at 20. My daughter was my entire world, everything to me. I didn't know I even wanted children, it was unexpected, but it happened and I loved every minute of it. Around two and a half years of age my daughter started shaking as she reached for objects, almost like she had Parkinson's. I had her blood sugar levels tested, a simple blood test was enough to reduce me to tears, when she hurt, I hurt. I was so naive about everything. 

Her results blood test results came back negative and I feared that maybe I was giving her too much apple juice or wasn't nailing the 'mommy' role as good as I should be. You always blame yourself.

Then she started forgetting her numbers. One day she could count to ten, the next day she was confused. I thought nothing of it… they're kids. They're small… you always try to make excuses when you know deep down something is off.

One cold morning in early January my nightmare began. My daughter lay in bed next me and I got up as usual… made the coffee, everything was fine. I jumped on the computer. I was selling rare, vintage aluminum Christmas trees back in those days. I did a few hours of work and then it dawned on me my daughter hadn't yet came bouncing through the halls.

I went to check on her. She was sleeping. Maybe she was tired. She was… but for reasons I didn't yet understand.

I called her name to gently try to wake her. Nothing. I let her sleep and continued on with my work.

I looked up at the clock and it was 10:00 AM. I knew it was time to wake her, she never slept this long. I called her name again, nothing. I panicked. I shook her and called her name. Nothing. I shook her harder and she vomited in her sleep, but refused to wake up… my nightmare had begun.

I thought I was overacting (I wasn't). I called the local pediatrician who told me to get her to the closest ER ASAP, or possibly to consider calling 911 for an ambulance. I panicked. What did it mean? I immediately put her limp body in a car seat and she miraculously woke up. I called the pediatrician back who told me to just schedule a regular check-up, as it was probably a false alarm.

In the coming days my world would end as I knew it, but I had no clue yet of what was to come. The episode repeated itself and I took her to the ER. They did an MRI and normally they release you… they did not release my daughter. Instead of sending us home with a typical pat on the butt and a 'the doctor will call you,' I watched as they put a hospital bracelet on my daughter's tiny wrist. We waited for hours. The poor radiologist nurse, Tiffany, tap-danced in front of us for what felt like an eternity. I knew in my heart something was very wrong. I called my dad. I told him I was scared. He left work and came immediately.

What transpired from there was any parent's worst nightmare. My daughter's pediatrician drove from her office to met us in the radiology waiting room and said a neurosurgeon wanted to speak with us and she was sorry and wanted to express her feelings in person. My daughter had terminal brain cancer. She was wheeled away and the next time I saw her she was bald. It's hard to imagine, but it happens. My daughter was one of those unlikely few.

September represents so much to me. It's National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, but so little of us hear about it or give it much thought. We can't imagine a world where children get 'that' sick, but they do. And I can promise you it's worse than your worst nightmare. It's an awful thing to go through. You want to take their place, but you can't.

My daughter fought long and hard, but ultimately lost her battle. I will spare you the details. Countless surgeries, she spent an entire year in ICU. Her birthday is today, she would have been 16. Today I would have been buying her a car. My heart aches. She lost her battle, on September 25th, shortly after her 6th birthday. 

I clam up every September. I can't help it. It's just as fresh as the day I was told her diagnosis. It never heals completely and September is my hardest month of all. I think about her constantly and the things we would be doing if she were still here. I reflect on the hard times, the happy times and what could have been.


(Madison, a few months before we knew what she was struggling with)

Thank you guys very much for listening. If you can't donate it's no problem… truly. I am happy I have friends to share this with, and that I'm comfortable enough to share this with. It's hard to share because honestly it's a little icky. No one wants to think about sick kids, it's unimaginable. But, it needs awareness just like any other awareness month… icky or not. It could save lives. If I had known what I know now I might have caught her illness in time to make a difference.

The main idea here is to remember what I have shared and if you know anyone who has seen similar symptoms with their little ones gently remind them to seek treatment as early as possible, you can never be too sure. September is a month of awareness and I wanted to share my story to help spread the awareness. I hope it has not brought anyone down, as that wasn't my intent. We shared lots of love, hope and ultimately we have peace, but this day is always difficult and I thought I would share my thoughts with you. No sadness, just happiness. She is at peace and I am too, but in September I reflect, and for the first time in a long time I thought I would share her story.


(Maddie shortly before her diagnosis)

Thank you again for listening. I'm sorry if this blog post came across as sentimental, it is, lol. But, I would choose to be her mom again without batting an eyelash. She taught me what love means and how far you will go and I thought I would share. 



Original Blog Post is from September 2018. For September 2019 we are giving gifts to those of you who donate to the following causes (details can be found here):

Atlanta Ronald McDonald House- This incredible charity gave me an actual bed to sleep in while my daughter was being cared for and hot meals after long days at the hospital when my address was still out of state: Atlanta Ronald McDonald House

The Atlanta area Pediatric Brain Tumor Foundation- My absolute rock during the toughest times. They helped with gas for chemo visits and when we lost our battle they even helped funeral expenses. They were absolutely incredible and I don't know how I would have pulled through without them: Atlanta Pediatric Brain Tumor Foundation

And obviously our hospital CHOA, who continued to treat Maddie after her $6 million lifetime insurance cap had been reached. Upon her passing they erased all debts owed with their condolences: Atlanta Children's Healthcare of Atlanta 

Any one of these three incredible organizations are absolutely wonderful. I can vouch for them all personally and the funds truly help families traversing their darkest times. Simply screenshot any donation made in September to receive your gift(s). You can send the screenshots to crystal@cedarcreekfarmhouse.com 



  • Posted by Sarah on

    Your bravery has brought me to tears. Thank you so much for sharing. I can’t imagine what that experience must be like and it makes me nauseous to think about. I’m so sorry for your loss, she’s just beautiful and she was lucky to have you. My birthday is the 28th and I will make a contribution this year in honor of you both.

  • Posted by Carla Moeller on

    Crystal, I’m am so so sorry for your loss. I just can’t imagine the heartache you have experienced and still experience to this day. May sweet Maddi Rest In Peace, what a precious little angle she was and I know still is. I’m praying for your family and sending you so much love and strength. Thank you for creating this fundraiser, as I know many of us have experienced a loved one who has passed to Cancer and are more than happy to donate. God bless xxx

  • Posted by Crystal Taylor on

    Hey guys! I’m not super great at blogging. I’m not sure how to respond directly to your comments. Hopefully I get better with this stuff.

    But, Sarah, thank you for allowing me to share. Happy Birthday to you! Don’t be sad, she’s with the angels now and she is at peace. I do appreciate you taking the time to read this and sharing your thoughts. Those are such worthy causes, please let me know if you do end up contributing, I’d like to do something special in return for you. I hope you have a wonderful birthday!

    Carla, thank you so much for the sweet comment here and the one I got via Instagram. That meant a lot to me. Your donation has absolutely gone to some wonderful charities. It’s so nice when other sellers reach out in the community. You’re a wonderful person. Lots of love to your family as well.

    And to all of those who sent sweet messages via Instagram – thank you. I absolutely needed those today and it helped. There were a lot of nurses that reached out, even one from CHOA. You guys are the real warriors, families like mine could not do it without the strength you demonstrate everyday when you show up to work. You guys are incredible. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and know that your strength is not lost on the families you interact with.

    If you have contributed I have all of those emails and will be reaching back out shortly. Today was emotionally draining and I was still training help until about 10:00 PM tonight. Luckily my help tonight is a good friend, so we laughed and talked and it took my mind off things. This is such a wonderful community. I’m so thankful and blessed to be a small part of it.

    And if you’re just reading this for the first time I will be doing this offer again on the 25th. It’s an easy way to do something good and get a little something in return.

    Thank you guys again. Sharing absolutely made this day a little easier. You guys are friends and family and I appreciate each and every one of you.

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