SAYING GOODBYE TO MY HERO, LIV
If you’ve followed me for some time, you know that I have a special St. Jude friend named Olivia, who came into my life about two years ago. Her dad, Aaron, had reached out to me on Instagram asking if I could send a soccer ball to his daughter, Liv, who was fighting neuroblastoma. I sent Liv a ball and gained a friend for life.
Liv and I met over FaceTime and instantly connected. She was a spunky, vibrant, and beautiful little girl. We bonded over gymnastic tricks, Christmas gifts, her fascination with unicorns, and her love of all things purple. We spent hours drawing unicorns together while laughing on Zoom. I share stories of our virtual playdates at all of my public speaking engagements, as a source of inspiration and awareness-raising, and an example of heroism in the face of childhood cancer. Liv and I were bonded as friends, but we were even more deeply connected in our common goal: fighting for her life and the lives of other kids battling cancer.
One of the most beautiful and rewarding parts of my work for St. Jude has been meeting patients and their families. I always describe my St. Jude friends as warriors—and that doesn’t come close to doing them justice. For the most part, I’ve been fortunate to witness my St. Jude friends grow up, leave the hospital, rejoin “typical” lives, play soccer, start kindergarten. And while the inevitably always loomed that one day I’d surely lose a St. Jude friend, I never let myself dwell on that possibility or give it any power.
It pains me to say goodbye to Liv. Watching her succumb to cancer has been the hardest thing I’ve had to do, and to be honest, I’m still in shock and still processing. The brutal reality is that, even in the United States where survival rates are the highest and climbing higher every day (thanks to the lifesaving work at St. Jude), they are not 100%. 1 in 5 kids with cancer don’t survive. These are the Livs of the world, and that statistic now means more to me than it ever has.
Liv will always be a bright light, a ball of energy, creativity, humor, and passion. Liv was a very, very special friend. Cancer stole years from her, but it didn’t diminish her impact. Thousands of people across the country have come together to pray for Liv, to follow her journey, and to gather inspiration from her, even in her passing.
For the past two years, Liv has been the driving reason behind the work I do. I’ll never stop fighting against childhood cancer in honor of Liv. Her life and her passing have provided me with renewed inspiration and fire. Now, in addition to the empathy and sense of responsibility that have fueled me in the past, I’m also propelled by anger and grief. I’m angry that Liv had to go through the torture of battling cancer throughout much of her short life. I’m angry that she was robbed of her future and that her younger siblings have lost their sister and watched her struggle. I’m angry that somehow we still can’t cure all kinds of pediatric cancers forever. And I’m deeply sad about losing my sweet friend.
To Aaron and everyone in Liv’s incredible family: I’m sending you so much love and keeping you in my thoughts and prayers, always. I will forever be grateful that Liv and I were connected and that you shared her and her journey with me. I’m comforted in knowing that your deep faith has allowed you to navigate this journey so far, and I know it will guide you in years to come.
Liv: Thank you for bringing so much joy and happiness into my life. You touched so many people, and your legacy will be one of increased awareness about, and dedication to, the fight against childhood cancer. You are my hero, and I love and miss you.
Please consider donating to the Weatherford Family Fund to help Liv’s family continue her legacy by supporting pediatric cancer causes and bringing joy to other kids fighting for their lives. You can also visit my Juggling for Jude website to donate to the lifesaving work at St. Jude in Liv’s honor. Thank you.
~Hollis