We are in the middle of #CameronStrong Week.
Two years ago this week, my son Cameron came home to Florida for the last time. On July 3rd, it will be two years since he went to Heaven.
I’ve spent the last few days wondering what I should write.
I could tell you about the month at Northwestern, the delayed flight, the loss of O2 after landing, the attendant who wouldn’t let us exit first, the ambulance crew rushing for him at the airport, the incredible Gulf Coast ER doctors and cardiac floor nurses, the broken community gate that literally stood between Cameron and home, the HOA fiasco, and the countless moments where it felt like every hardship was met with an unexpected blessing. Someday, I believe those stories will become a book.
But not today.
Today, I simply want you to know my son.
Many people don’t know that I named Cameron after Cameron Frye from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I’ve always loved that character. Years later, one of Cameron’s favorite places became the Art Institute of Chicago because he loved standing in front of A Sunday on La Grande Jatte—the beautiful painting featured in the movie, while wearing Cameron’s red t-shirt! During one doctor’s appointment, he excitedly sent me a selfie because there was a replica of the painting hanging in the waiting room behind him. He couldn’t wait to show me.
That was Cameron.
He noticed beauty.
He was witty.
He had been an avid reader since he was three years old. I still remember picking him up from preschool while his teachers laughed about the latest puzzle challenge. They would time him with 50-piece puzzles just to see how quickly he could finish them. He amazed them over and over again.
As he grew older, he loved books just as much. He enjoyed Goosebumps and Captain Underpants - and he adored Harry Potter, but he had one rule: he refused to watch the next movie until he reread the book first. That was so Cameron. He wanted every detail.
He was an artist.
He loved anime.
He loved gaming.
He loved museums and aquariums.
He collected Pokémon cards.
He loved walking through his neighborhood just to be outside.
He loved chocolate Oreo milk Boba, roasted pistachios, Sweet Tarts, and The Cubs opening day!
He also loved Greek food, Indian food, Chicken Tikka Masala, and requested (and expected) my homemade sauce with gnocchi and sausage.
He fully adored his brother Brandon (one-year younger), and loved spending time with all of his sisters.
One of Cameron’s greatest passions was gaming—not just playing games, but appreciating the creativity behind them.
One of his favorite games was Hyper Light Drifter, created by Alx Preston, who was born with a congenital heart defect. Cameron loved knowing that someone living with a heart condition had taken his own journey and transformed it into something so beautiful. I think there was a quiet sense of camaraderie there—a feeling that someone else truly understood.
Cameron also loved the hauntingly beautiful soundtrack (of that game) by Disasterpeace. And some of his other favorite songs are by Sufjan Stevens. If you haven’t listened to his music and lyrics - please do.
Looking back, Cam was always looking for beauty.
Always looking for meaning.
Always looking for hope.
One of my favorite memories still makes me smile.
Every time he landed in Florida and stepped outside, his sunglasses would instantly fog up from the humidity. He’d wait for it. Every single time, he’d laugh. On that final trip home, after we landed in Fort Myers, I teased him about it again while he was riding in the back of the ambulance. I sat in the front.
Even then...
He smiled.
He laughed.
He was still my Cameron.
-
People often ask me if grief gets easier.
I’m not sure that’s the right question.
What I know is this...
Love doesn’t end.
I still cry.
I still smile.
I still catch myself staring at his pictures.
And every single day, I thank God that, out of all the mothers in the world, He entrusted Cameron to me.
One of the things that has stayed with me the most happened after Cameron went to Heaven.
Several of the doctors and nurses who had cared for him reached out to me personally. Some even sent cards. They didn’t have to. They simply wanted me to know how much Cameron had meant to them.
One conversation, especially, has never left me.
The physician leading Cameron’s transplant team at Vanderbilt called me. We had been so hopeful. We truly believed Cameron was getting closer to receiving the heart he had waited so long for.
As we talked, I remember him becoming emotional. Then he quietly said something I’ll never forget:
“We need to get these kids in sooner.”
I’ve carried those words with me ever since.
I don’t know all the ways Cameron’s life changed the people around him, but I do know this...
He wasn’t just a patient.
He was a young man they remembered.
He mattered.
And maybe that’s why I’ve felt such a strong pull to begin writing his story. Not because I want to relive the hardest week of our lives, but because I want people to know the young man behind the diagnosis.
The artist.
The reader.
The gamer.
The music lover.
The brother.
The son.
The friend.
The young man who quietly showed so many people what courage, kindness, humility, and hope look like.
If you’d like to learn more about Cameron, his lifelong journey with congenital heart disease, or the heart behind #CameronStrong Week, I invite you to visit my website. Under Community & Support, you’ll find #CameronStrong, where I’ll continue sharing his story and the legacy of love, faith, and hope he left behind.
Thank you for remembering my son with me this week.
Please don’t remember Cameron only for how he died.
Remember him for how beautifully he lived.
With love,
Mary Rose
Thank you so much for sharing Cameron's story. It was absolutely beautiful, and I feel grateful to have had the opportunity to read it. The love you have for him radiates through every word and I felt like I got a glimpse of who Cameron was and the light he brought to the people around him.
Thank you for opening your heart and sharing such precious memories. Cameron was clearly so deeply loved, and his story is one that will stay with me. It was a beautiful tribute to a beautiful soul.
I’m profoundly moved by your motherly compassion, Mar. I looked up Cameron’s favorite painting enjoying all the colors, light textures and going’s on in that lively scene. What an incredible child of God’s soul-goodness and grace you have expressed in your portrayal of him. And Cameron’s appetite for spicy food inspires me too!! I look forward to baking some bran muffins loaded with pecans, cranberries and love for our local hospice in his name on Friday.💜🌹