Memphis Cash

08/19/2025

Today is hard, harder than my normal days…

Today would’ve been Memphis’ first day of Kindergarten. I just know we would’ve filled the character backpack he picked out, with all of the necessary items and a towel he picked for nap time, walking hand in hand with him with his backpack on, his kinder teachers gift in one of my hands and the other free hand taking lots of pictures with friends, trying to find a moment to empty my hands to hold his. But, we won’t be doing that, because childhood cancer happened.

I went to MES twice this morning… I just sat there watching all of the movement, all of the parents some dropping their babies off and some walking them in… I saw several crying… I had a short moment of anger that went all over me, or not anger, but sadness, but angry sadness, is that a thing? I was sad because I wasn’t walking Memphis into Kindergarten, angry because those mama’s were crying, like why are you crying? You get them back at the end of the day, I don’t have Memphis to get back later… Then I thought, “Allison, don’t be that way”, immediately after those thoughts, I said to myself “God is just holding him in His lap until I get there.” I shouldn’t be mad at those mamas or mad that they have their babies… and I’m not, I’m not because I never want another parent to feel the loss of a child. I wish I would’ve been the last person to feel that loss, it’s a loss you never fully recover from. I wish not another family would hear those awful words “your child has cancer” or “the treatment isn’t working” or “the cancer has spread” or “there’s nothing more we can do” I wish not another child would be diagnosed with childhood cancer. I don’t want another family picking out a casket, headstone or plot for their child.

Memphis is in a place so wonderful that Kindergarten fun can’t even compare to it, and that’s Heaven fun.

I miss him. 💙

Love your babies.
Be thankful.
Be humble.
Say your prayers.

07/11/2025

It’s hard to believe that four years ago today we said “goodbye” to our Memphis. Psalm 34:18-20 says even if you face many troubles, God will deliver you from them all. The pain of losing a child can be unbearable, and the following grief can make it difficult to find joy. God promises never to leave us alone in our suffering, and He stands ready to bear our burdens. Psalm 34:18 reminds us that “God is close to those who are brokenhearted and He will save those with crushed spirits.”I love you, Memphis! I miss every part of you. I am forever broken in your absence, but thankful to Jesus that our “goodbye” was really a “see you again soon!” I'd give anything to hear him laugh, to see his cheeseburger smile. If only life had been kind to you. I love you today, tomorrow, forever. 💙I do not own the rights to this music.

01/19/2025

“The day we laid him in the ground, is the day I lost my mind”

Picture from 4 years ago, today. His ANC was 0 and we were just waiting for it to be 2,000 or higher for three consecutive days, in order to go home.

I miss him.

His poor little body went through pure hell, in 11 short month.

Pokes, blown veins, multiple craniotomies for them to scrape around and stir the hornet’s nest of brain cancer cells, port placement, NG tube placement, CVL placement, stem cell transplant, not to mention when he went in for his first of many procedures to have his port placed shortly after diagnosis, ONE nurse stuck him SEVENTEEN times and couldn’t get an IV started.

All of this preparation to sit and hold him while poison was pushed through his veins.

I miss you, Memphis. I often wonder who you’d be today.

I saw someone comment on one of Tayler Brockman Bolen’s pictures of Brock recently and the comment was “I couldn’t imagine” and you’re right, you can’t, we couldn’t either, until it was us and our babies. I think “I couldn’t imagine” are the words that sting the most.

It’s unimaginable, but we’re living the unimaginable and never asked to live it. We never signed up for this.

This is a horrible club to be a member of, one that I could’ve lived all of my life not being apart of.

Tayler, I am praying for you. I am so sorry.

12/25/2024

Cookies, milk, carrots and reindeer food have been put out. We’re ready for you, Santa!

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!
🎅🏼❄️🎄🎁 ✝️

💙

12/19/2024

December hasn't changed.
This town looks the same.
They still light that tree in the city square.
There's red, white, and green shining everywhere.
And I wish you were here.
And I wonder,
Is the snow falling down on the streets of gold?
Are the mansions all covered in white?
Are you singing with angels silent night?
I wonder, what Christmas in Heaven is like.

Memphis
Christmas 2020
His last Christmas here with us. ❤️

10/31/2024

09/25/2024

One of the most difficult things for me to do is visit Memphis’ grave. Though it’s been three years since he passed, I still dread going to the cemetery. The cemetery is a stark and painful reminder, it seems so final. What intensifies my grief, anger, sadness is the headstone, that upright Mickey Mouse shaped granite monument with his name and pictures on it.

Carrying the grief of child loss, sadness and depression doesn’t end, and going to the cemetery doesn’t help.

Even though the cemetery is hard to visit, I suck it up and go, while I’m there I always talk to Memphis. I talk to him often, daily, several times a day, mostly at night, but at the cemetery it’s different.

When I return home, I’m grieving for days. I feel sad and angry all over again. I feel sad because he’s no longer with me. I feel angry over the future that might have been. My grief is more than if I had not gone to the cemetery at all, or so I think.

So I ask myself, if going to my son’s grave makes me feel so grief stricken and lousy, why go? But if I don’t go to the cemetery, I know I’ll feel guilty for not going. It seems that child loss and guilt go together.

Why do I feel guilty for not visiting his grave? Am I afraid he’ll feel upset or slighted? Will he think we’ve forgotten about him?

I know that in reality, Memphis doesn’t care if I go to the cemetery or not. He knows I talk to him when I’m home. I mention his name often, talk about him often, others talk about him often, we sponsor events or projects in his memory. I think about him constantly. He knows we haven’t forgotten about him.

I love you bubba.
I ate one of your favorites tonight, while I visited with you.💙

09/04/2024

Did you know these six facts about childhood cancer?

08/29/2024

Drove to the school to drop Hadley off.
Drove to the cemetery to visit Memphis.

A lot of people say... I don't know how you do it, or I couldn't live through that, or the most common one, I can't imagine...... What you really mean is, you can imagine it and you can't stand the thought of that reality. The truth is, you don't get a choice what you live through. Your choice comes in how you handle it. You can’t help the cards your dealt and what life throws at you.

Please keep showing us you are near, Memphis. Please keep helping all who love you, you are such an inspiration to so many. We need you, we miss you and we love you!

Mama misses you, so much.

07/11/2024

7-11-2021 at 3:00 PM, the last time I held his little body and placed him on a gurney in the funeral home van. 💙

07/11/2024

As a mother, your life’s purpose from conception of a child is to protect your child. But what do you do when the unthinkable happens? We kiss boo-boos, and build confidence and self-esteem with our warm smiles and gentle hugs, but how do we comfort our babies when the unimaginable happens? How do you comfort and protect when your child receives a cancer diagnosis?

My heart was so broken, it will always be broken. All I wanted to do was to protect my child, and I couldn’t do that… not against cancer. I had to accept that this was a journey that he was faced with and had to learn how to pray and trust God and trust all those around us that were praying for us and helping us through the living hell that we were in.

Cancer taught me that life is so very unpredictable and that nothing or no one should be taken for granted, EVER.

There is much to learn from our kids. Life is fragile, don’t take it for granted and remember to be .

Memphis Cash 9/4/2019-7/11/2021 💙



August 9, 2020- ACH emergency room where we learned that Memphis had a tumor on his right frontal lobe the size of an orange.

August 11, 2020- ACH PICU, waiting to have a brain resection.

August 12, 2020 - immediately after brain resection to remove tumor… thinking we’d go home and this was the end of the “tumor.”

Only to find out in the “end” that the cancer that was being treated with chemotherapy drugs along with a cocktail of other drugs, for eleven months weren’t working. It couldn’t have worked the cancer was so much stronger, it took Memphis from us. However, as awful as it sounds, I am thankful for those eleven months. I am also thankful that he is no longer suffering, but selfishly, I wish he was here.

I was so hopeful and optimistic. Wow, was I wrong.

I could go on and on….. it’s a living hell.

Thank you all for your support, then and now. I love you all. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. Please pray for me, pray for us, pray for our family.

Memphis, mama loves you and misses you more than I even know how to comprehend. I will never understand. You were the happiest baby boy, despite the horrible disease that traveled through your little body. 💙