Remembering Madelyn
- Mar 28
- 6 min read
Written by: Maddie’s Father – Nathan Hartman
With help from her sister Payson &
GrandmasTracey Hartman and Chris Suttle

Madelyn Marye Hartman
2/17/13 – 07/20/19
A Life Full of Personality, Love and Joy
It is impossible to summarize who our Maddie Cakes was… Madelyn, from the day she was born, was a charmer! The ultimate “girls just want to have fun” girl. She was a huge flirt, a girly-girl, a tom-boy, a “no one is a stranger,” a laugh-until-you-can’t-breathe lover of all of God’s creatures, and a having absolutely no fear, talk-a-mile-a-minute-at-all-times type of personality all rolled into one.

Madelyn was made for the spotlight!
Maddie would go from wearing dresses, gowns, crowns, jewelry, and dressing up as a Princess, to digging up worms and putting them on her face, or “petting” slugs she would find on the front porch. Maddie lived life to have fun and made everything she did fun. She was special, and she knew it, and carried that pizzazz with her everywhere.
In her only ballet recital, she got to lead a group of three other little girls that sneakily crept after an older girl pretending to be a grandfather. You could just see the delight on her face as she performed, knowing that she was the center of attention and all eyes were on her.
Maddie lived life to have fun, and made everything she did fun.

No Such Thing as Strangers!
When we would go to the store, Maddie, within seconds, would find someone she hadn’t met yet and immediately start trying to get their attention from inside the shopping cart. She would stare at them, blink a ton, give a small smile.
As soon as that “stranger” would make eye contact, Maddie would share our life’s story:“HI! I’m Maddie! This is my sister! We are shopping for our dog! And later we are going to a movie! At home we have cats. Do you have cats? What are you shopping for? What’s your name?”
We would awkwardly chuckle at each other—myself and the innocent passerby—and I would suggest to Maddie that this is a stranger who she didn’t know and she shouldn’t be talking to them… But Maddie would simply say, “No, I know them! I met them at the store.”

Maddie Magic
Over the years, I had convinced Maddie and her sister, Payson, that I had special “Daddy Magic” and knew everything they did. Like when I wouldn’t be in the room but just knew that Maddie had mischievously walked over to the toys Payson was playing with and “accidentally” knocked them all down. She certainly knew how to push her sister’s buttons.
Later, Payson and I would comment about the beautiful sunsets or sunrises, and Maddie would proclaim, “You’re welcome! I did that with my Maddie Magic.” To this day, every time we look at a beautiful sky, we just know that Maddie is painting it for us to remind us of her “Maddie Magic.”

A Love for Life (and School… Sort Of)
I will never forget, just before she got diagnosed with her illness, Maddie had entered Kindergarten. When I say this girl loved school, I mean she LOVED school. Not so much the learning part of school, but the social interaction that was school.
Several times Maddie would bring her entire lunch that I had packed for her back home. I’d inquire as to why she hadn’t eaten lunch, and she’d confidently tell me, “I did eat, Daddy.”
Looking at her full lunchbox, I’d confusingly look at her and let out an “uhhh?”
She’d just smile and laugh and say, “Oh, the boys at my table give me their food if I let them sniff my hair.” Never in my life…

When Everything Changed
All of this changed for Maddie on January 9, 2019. Just three days prior, Maddie was enjoying a nice weekend outside—chasing the dog around the backyard, jumping on the trampoline, and playing with her sister.
On Monday, January 7, 2019, Maddie began to show some weird symptoms. I remember her having trouble pushing her arm through her shirt and having to help her get dressed. I thought nothing of it, assuming it was just a tired girl. Tuesday was much the same, and Wednesday morning was the same. However, when I arrived home from work on Wednesday, our daycare provider pointed out that something was definitely wrong. Maddie couldn’t walk straight; her face now had a droopy appearance to it…
I asked Maddie, “Baby, what’s wrong?” Maddie cried as she walked over to me, telling me, “I don’t know.”
Maddie never, ever cried.
We rushed her to the emergency room. Quickly, Sentara Hospital did an X-ray and CAT scan and told us we needed to be rushed to Children’s. Maddie stayed cool, calm, and collected—excited to meet the nurses—and thought it was cool that she’d get to go in a helicopter! She was bummed when the wind that evening prevented it, but the ambulance ride with the lights and sirens on still tickled her fancy.

A Warrior Princess
After a few weeks in Children’s, befriending all of the nursing staff and going through the hallways asking if they could give her LOL Dolls or slime to play with (and she successfully convinced many to bring her gifts every time they’d come into her room), Maddie underwent brain surgery to get a biopsy of the tumor that had been growing in the pons of the brain stem.
Maddie was diagnosed with Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma.
We spent the next three weeks going back and forth daily to Sibley Hospital undergoing radiation treatment—which Maddie thought was fun because she could wear a mask and listen to a song during the treatment.
In the months that followed, the tumor would continue to take away Maddie’s abilities to function—the use of her left arm, ability to balance, ability to keep her head up, ability to talk, ability to swallow.
Watching Maddie slowly lose all of her abilities to function was heartbreaking.
And it was during this period of time that we were shown true strength from our warrior princess. Not once did Maddie complain about her treatments or her inability to function. She continued to dance in the rain and find ways to enjoy life. She would sing and dance while sitting and would make jokes or purposefully make messes with her pureed food just to get laughs.
She would need to be supported on the potty and had an absolute blast making sure whomever held her on the potty was noticing all of the potty smells. That was her favorite.
We know that there is always ‘Maddie Magic’ in the sky…and that strangers are just friends we haven’t made yet… But above all, we have all learned how to dance in the rain. — Maddie’s Dad

A Community of Love
The Sweet Julia Grace Foundation connected with us very early on in Maddie’s battle. They were lifesavers to grieving parents who didn’t know which end was up and were so full of hope for their baby girl. With Sara’s help, and the help of so many from Maddie’s support group, we were able to throw Madelyn a magical wedding—every father’s dream for their daughter. Disney princesses brought Maddie her wedding dress and shoes, and at the wedding Belle showed up, and we had face painters and even a unicorn!
Throughout Maddie’s battle, we were able to continue to have adventures and try to fit a lifetime of experiences with Maddie into a short window because of SJGF’s support in finding different transportation items (strollers and wheelchairs) that could support Maddie.
But the support from Sara and The Sweet Julia Grace Foundation didn’t stop there. Knowing that Maddie’s sister was also going through this difficult time, Sara made sure that Payson was included and found ways to support her in joining the dancing in the rain with Maddie. Payson has never forgotten this, and she holds a special place in her heart for all that SJGF did for her and her sister.

Keeping Her Legacy Alive
The connection we made with The Sweet Julia Grace Foundation has allowed Maddie’s support group to continue to keep her memory alive.
We have created and donated hospital go-bags, supported other Raindancers by helping to build items that they need to “dance in the rain,” and we’ve had the opportunity to participate in SJGF’s Annual Adult Field Day, representing Maddie with her initials on our outfits.

A Love That Never Ends
Until her last breath, Maddie made it known that her favorite person in this world was her big sister, Payson. She would often tell us that she loves Paypay with ALLLL her heart, and the rest of us—well, we only got the smallest pieces of her heart.Maddie lived a life full of love. She loved everything and would “mother” her “babies,” which were often rollie pollies, slugs, mice that made their way into the house, along with her pets and baby dolls.

Dancing in the Rain
Watching our Maddie Marye fight her battle with DIPG—with love, hope, determination, laughter, strength, poise, and grace, without once shedding a tear—has given her entire support group a new look on life.
We know that there is always “Maddie Magic” in the sky, and that strangers are just friends we haven’t made yet, and that all creatures, big and small, deserve love and kindness.
But above all, we have all learned how to dance in the rain by watching Maddie do so.
Sweet Madelyn, Forever Loved +
Always Remembered.
Make a donation in memory of Madelyn to help
Raindancers, Dance In the Rain.




























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