Maddie Farr was born on December 21st 2010 weighing 4 lb 7 oz – small in stature, giant in personality and very strong in grip, as if she knew she’ll have to fight for every minute of good health. It took her about a year to externalize emotions and, from that point on, she never stopped. She showed strength and bravery day in and day out as she faced her battles with a smile on her face grinning ear to ear. She used that same strength to always get her way – she knew that if she stayed persistent, we would cave in. She would even have a devious smile on her face while she was doing exactly what she was told not to do. She would not even try to hide it; she would just look at you straight in the eyes like she was laughing inside.
What most remember her by was a heart of gold. She was the sweetest little girl. All she ever knew was love from everyone that surrounded her and insisted on reciprocating that love. She had a knack of wrapping even strangers around her finger in a matter of seconds. How could you tell her no when she grabbed you by the hand and dragged you along with her, told you where to sit, only then to ask to get up and go back to where you were sitting originally? One day in heaven, she’ll tell us why she did that - even to complete strangers! No one could deny her because she would melt your heart with her innocence & kindness.
She liked to have books read to her, listen to music and look at pictures of herself on our phones. She also loved swimming in the pool or floating in the tub in one of her 5 daily baths. She was such a joyful little girl, despite all the pain and discomfort she experienced in her lifetime.
She easily had over ten surgeries in her short life, including the last two which were considered major procedures. Her major ailment was GI Issues. This put her in the hospital so often that we got to know most of the hospital’s pediatrics department staff. Those were the only times that she did not have a smile on her face. She would hide her pain and discomfort the rest of the time. Our frequent hospital visits usually lasted for 5 days. She would let us know when she’s feeling up for the fight again - her smile uncontainable, letting us know that she’s ready to go home. She was very resilient, every single day, no matter what. She fought very hard throughout her life until she had nothing left to give.
Over the last couple years of her life, while her attitude never wavered, her health started to slowly decline. It felt like we were in the hospital more often than we were not. In between her hospital stays, she was full speed ahead, happy as can be, grinning ear to ear. Yet, over the last few months, she started to slow down and became very tired quite often. We tried one big procedure that we were hoping to help her turn the corner but the recovery process, on top of everything else, was just too much for her this time. She passed away on her way to the hospital while hiding from the sun under her blanket. Her battle is over but her legacy lives on in all of those whose days she brightened over her lifetime. We miss you so much peanut but find solace in knowing that your pain is now gone and you are enjoying dragging grandpa by his hand from one heavenly room to another, sitting him down next to you, then asking him to get up again - up and down….