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Through the Mia Hamm Foundation, Mia is able to connect with many of her own heroes: people bravely coping with a chronic or serious illness as well as their supportive family members.
We're honored to share these stories with you. "How I've Loved and Lost"
Most of us have to deal with counselors. Most of us push people away without knowing exactly why. I went through my handful of Specialists. I was stubborn and I learned to mask my fears and instability. I sat with therapists hour after hour, refusing to acknowledge the fact that my sister was sick and that it was making me sick too. I wanted to be "fine" to the outside world. I realize now that I did this for the rest of my family. One of the hardest parts about having a brother or sister with cancer is seeing the toll it takes on the other members of your family. My mother and father tried to be strong for both my sister and me, but I felt how much they were hurting. In order to help them, I would have to show them that I was okay... right? Wrong. It helps Mom and Dad when they have you to hold and comfort. It is okay to cry with them and tell them that you are scared because they are scared too. Family unity will be one of the most important aspects of moving through the hardest of times. For me, the most painful part of grieving was losing the pictures I had tried to store away forever in my mind. I hope that 'the hardest of times' for you will be some hospital stays and treatment. However, some of us must say goodbye to our Lydias. As days and then weeks pass, pain of your last goodbye stays with you. Yes, there are flashes of joy and whiffs of laughter but the emotional burden overwhelms you. Unfortunately time does not cease and images begin to grow hazy in your memory. All of a sudden, you can't remember exactly where their dimple was placed, and you can't remember the exact shade of their eyes. You know their dimple was right in the middle of their cheek and you know their eyes were dark green, but you just can't see it all together. This is when panic sets in. It feels as though something so precious couldn't possibly be gone; as though the comforts of these memories to which you have clung to for the past few days are now being ripped away. You feel as though you are betraying your kin by forgetting. But this is natural. No matter how hard you strain your memory, the images are, in fact, gone. This is the last thing you will have to give up. Your love and your emotional ties-the memories of fighting over the last cookie or playing on the playground will stay with you forever, even if you would like to forget. Even though the tangible still-shots we clung to in our memories seem so important, they are not. I encourage you to look at pictures and watch home movies to feel the closeness and the comfort of knowing exactly how they tottered along after you and exactly how wide that gap between their two front teeth was. Lydia Elizabeth Hatton lived six fabulous years. I learned more about myself and the world around me in those six years than I may the rest of my life. I learned that I was blessed with a life full of opportunities that I could not let pass by. I have learned how to lose but now I am ready for happiness and success. Lydia was strong and free-spirited. She inspired me to become the greatest I can be. I will choose to spend my life helping families like ours through science. I believe that efforts like this will help prevent cancer from taking any more brothers and sisters. by Gabrielle ("Brie") Hatton "How Mia Chaged My Life" Hi, my name is Erin and I want to tell you how Mia Hamm changed my life. It all started out with a swollen gland on the night in September 2001. My doctor at first said it was nothing to be worried about. However, after it didn’t go away and I started to not feel well, and my mom brought me back to my doctor. I had numerous blood tests and some x-rays. Soon afterwards, my doctor called to say the very words any parent would fear: “Your daughter has cancer.” Then told us that we should immediately go to the emergency room. At the hospital, we got my diagnosis of acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL). I was only eight years old and had no idea what was going on. I just waited for some explanation of what cancer meant. Later that night, my parents told me that I might be staying in the hospital for some time. I wept hard in my mother’s arms not knowing what to say. My mother didn’t know what to say either, but she didn’t have to. I was beginning to know what cancer meant. After staying in the hospital for over a month, I went home. A few days later we received a call from the Casey Cares Foundation. They had sent us a movie and popcorn at home since I was too sick to go out of the house. It was so enjoyable to look forward to something, but all I really wanted to do was play soccer. At the time, though, my legs were too weak. All my friends and family heard that I really liked soccer and started sending me soccer stuff. At first, I didn’t know much about Mia Hamm. But after receiving so much stuff about her I finally decided to find out who this athlete really was. I read all of her books and realized she had an adopted brother, Garret, who had died of a serious illness. I thought, wow she must be a pretty amazing person. I started to look up to her. When I was going through my treatments I had wanted to be a doctor, but ever since I started looking up to her, I had instantly changed my mind about that. I wanted to be a professional soccer player like Mia. Throughout my treatment, I received yet another phone call from the Casey Cares Foundation. They had invited me to go to a St. Patrick’s Day party. My family said yes since now I could go out more. There they had food and lots of auction items. But the auction item that caught my eye the most was a signed Mia Hamm jersey with her team picture and a soccer ball. I kept my eye on that jersey as the bidding went higher and higher. I looked at the clock. Only one minute to go. At the last second, this sixteen-year-old boy quickly signed for $200 on that jersey. I walked away very upset knowing we couldn’t get it. Later as the winners went to the front to collect their items, the same boy came up to me. I recognized him as a Casey Care’s volunteer. He said to me “Here you go” and handed me a white bag. I looked inside and saw the jersey, the picture and the soccer ball. “Oh” I sighed, “congratulations.” I started handing the bag back to him. “No” he said. “It’s for you.” I couldn’t help but to let the tears of joy spring down my face. That night I decided I wanted to write to Mia Hamm and let her know what Thomas had done for me and to thank her for donating the jersey to the party. She wrote back to me and I wrote her back again. I still like to write to her. Whenever I am going through a hard time, I long to meet Mia Hamm. I know I can’t so I read her letters which make me feel like she’s nearby. I am now a fully recovered patient at 11 years of age. It wouldn’t have been a fun journey if Mia Hamm hadn’t been there for me. And I give her thanks in anyway I can. Thank you, Mia. You’re my hero. Your #1 fan, This is a poem I wrote recently for school: I AM I am a daddy's girl who has dreams. I pretend I am an Olympic medallist. I understand that not everyone understands about the world. "A Wish More Than Fulfilled" Up until I turned 13 years old I had lived a very normal life. I had a loving family, supportive friends, and a wonderful place to live. I considered my life perfect. My days consisted of waking up to a view of the ocean, going to school and seeing all my friends, surfing on the weekends, running in cross country meets, and playing soccer game after soccer game. All of this suddenly changed when I was 14 years old. A large mass quickly formed in my stomach and not a single doctor around Southern California could figure out what it was. After several MRI’s, ultrasounds, and blood tests, the doctors decided that there was only one thing left to do:exploratory surgery. No one had any idea what it could be, but after a 3 hour long operation and an analysis of the tumor that night, I was diagnosed with a rare form of ovarian cancer. The 6 pound Certoli Ledig Cell Tumor they removed was very rare, but was found in adolescent teen girls, like me. During this time, I was oblivious to all that was going on around me. I didn’t even know what the term “chemotherapy” meant up until then. And I certainly didn’t understand that my life would change so dramatically over the next year. My summer of 2001 was all set to be spent traveling to Mexico, surfing everyday, and relaxing with my friends. Instead, it was spent at the hospital going through round after round of chemo. However none of this mattered to me as much as the fact that I couldn’tplay soccer. I had been an avid player and fan for years now and nothing in the world mattered more to me. I wasn’t able to play all year because my body was so weak from the treatments that I wasn’t allowed to be around any other people due to my susceptibility to infections. But because soccer was my life, during my stays at the hospital I packed up every soccer taped I owned (over 85 and growing) and watched them almost 24 hours a day. It may sound strange, but I really credit those tapes for helping me get through my treatment positively. But by far the happiest and most positive moment of this experience was the day that I was told I would get to meet Mia Hamm. I had watched Mia on TV for years, and was captivated the first time I witnessed her skill. I considered myself to be her biggest fan, and wished for nothing more than the chance to meet her in person. I had been to live games, but I had never been able to get an autograph or my picture taken with her. That all changed in October of 2002. The Make-A-Wish Foundation surprised me and sent me to San Diego to spend a day with Mia and the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team. Meeting my idol was the most amazing experience of my life. Mia was friendly, funny, caring and even did a special corner kick dance while the US National Team head coach, April Heinrichs, caught it all on tape for me. Whenever I need a good laugh, I watch the tape and by the end, I’m rolling on the floor laughing. When I asked if I could have a picture taken with Mia, she laughed, grabbed my arm, pulled me right next to her and said, “Sure! Of course!” She was unbelievable, as was the entire team. They gave me tons of souvenirs and autographed everything, including a team jersey from one of the players. Even if it was just for one day, they made me feel like a part of their team, not a sick patient diagnosed with cancer. This was something I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Because of the unbelievably generous way Mia and the players treated me, I get upset when I hear people or read about parents criticizing the team because their child didn’t get an autograph. Most of the people that criticize Mia or the team have never even met her or the other players. If they had, there is no way they could say such things about such an incredible group of people. That day I experienced first hand what an outgoing, selfless, friendly, and unmatchable team this is. Nobody can ever change my opinion on that. Just this last June, 2004, I was re-diagnosed, this time with a completely different kind of cancer. I went through more surgeries and treatments, and I am now cancer free. That second experience further proved to me that you truly never know how quickly your life can change. Two years after my day with Mia, and 4 months after my last surgery, I still think about meeting her every day. It seems like yesterday that I was huddling with the team, having them teach me their cheer. I can’t help but smile when I think about it. Sometimes people ask me during the middle of class why I am grining, but it really isn’t something that I can explain. It’s difficult to try and describe having your lifelong wish come true. I’ll meet up with friends or family that I haven’t seen in awhile and they’ll ask me how I’m doing. I’ll say “wonderful” and I mean it. You hear cancer patients say it all the time, and I know it sounds strange to a lot of people, but in a really big way I feel blessed to have had to go through what I did. It has made me realize that we are given one chance at life, and everyone should make the best of it. I don’t consider myself a “cancer survivor” because I think the term sounds arrogant. I did survive cancer, but more importantly was what I got out of the experience. I got my health back, but I also got to have my dream come true. I am going to Mia’s final game in less than a month. The legacy she has left on women’s sports is amazing, but the impression she left on me remains indescribable. If I were ever able to talk to Mia again in person, I would thank her so much for all the inspiration, hope, and encouragement she has given me. I know she inspires girls around the world, but she inspired one especially that day in October. I hope that everyone would get a chance during their lifetime to meet someone like Mia, someone who can give you hope and inspiration with a kick of a ball or a simple smile. She has truly made me want to live my life to the fullest. Each and every second on the soccer field during a game is important, and I’ve learned it’s the same way with life. Mia has made me want to make every second count. Thank you, Mia.
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Many nights a week I lay in bed with my eyes closed, imagining a chubby cheeked teenager resembling my sister, Lydia. I am sure many of us ask what if on a daily basis. Today, would I be sharing clothes and maybe a car with a seventeen year-old sister? Would our family have four, five, or six members? Would I be as bold, as honest, as hardened as I am now if my sister hadn't died of cancer over ten years ago? The truth is: we will never know these answers. The truth is: we were given the gift of life. The truth is: we had the joy of our siblings' presence, if only for a little while. Take comfort in the knowledge that there are many kids our there just like you-and we are more than willing to help.