Jameson was strong in every sense of the word — strong in faith, strong in love, and strong in his fight. He was the most selfless little boy, always thinking of others before himself and praying for everyone he met. Even on the hardest days, he found ways to make others smile. He was hilarious, full of life, and loved to prank everyone with his trusty whoopee cushion. His laughter was contagious, and his heart was pure.
Jameson had a big love for the simple joys in life — Dog Man books, Garfield cartoons, and collecting football cards. He was a huge Kansas City Chiefs fan (despite being from Michigan!) and his favorite color was red — he wore red everything. When he got a shoutout from Patrick Mahomes, his favorite player, it lit up his whole world.
And then there was Morgan Wallen. Jameson listened to his songs every single day, and getting to meet him in person was one of the greatest moments of his life. During the meet and greet, Jameson asked Morgan to pray with him — a moment that touched the singer deeply. When Jameson passed away, Morgan quietly and generously paid for his funeral. That act of kindness is something our family will never forget.
Jameson with Morgan Wallen
Jameson was also our little navigator — our “Google Maps.” He always knew how to get anywhere and never let us get lost. His joyful spirit and faith-filled heart guided our family through every twist and turn of his journey.
Before this all began, we were a normal family. We had just spent a wonderful summer camping and traveling to Mackinaw Island. Jameson was getting ready to start 2nd grade, full of excitement and energy.
But that summer, he began having moments where he would throw up and not feel well. The symptoms came and went, and after multiple doctor visits and tests, nothing seemed abnormal. We thought maybe it was anxiety. Then one day, Jameson started throwing up again. We drew a bath for him, but when we asked if he knew who we were, he didn’t. He was confused and disoriented.
We called an ambulance immediately. At Covenant Emergency Room, scans revealed something no parent is ever prepared to hear — our son had a mass on his brain and needed emergency surgery. We had no time to process our feelings. We were making impossible decisions on the spot — which hospital to transfer him to, who to call, how to tell our family.
When we learned that the surgeon at Covenant wouldn’t be able to operate until after the holiday weekend, my mother’s instinct kicked in. I knew we needed to move him. We decided to transfer Jameson to Mott Children’s Hospital in Ann Arbor.
As we waited for the ambulance, our pastor arrived to pray with us. He handed Jameson a small wooden cross with his name on it — a cross that would become our source of strength through the hardest moments of our lives.
At Mott, doctors told us Jameson had a mass the size of a fist in his brain. They explained the risks of surgery — including the possibility we could lose our son. We prayed like never before. The day of the surgery, I clung to Jameson’s stuffed dog, Chase, as we followed him to the elevator. I didn’t want to let him go.
Hours later, the surgery was complete — and by the grace of God, Jameson made it through. The surgeon told us that if we had waited until Tuesday, he wouldn’t have survived. That moment reaffirmed our faith: God was with us, guiding us to make the right choice.
Jameson underwent six weeks of radiation. During that time, I stayed with him in Ann Arbor, living in a hotel and relying on DoorDash for meals. It was hard being away from home and from our other two children. My husband stayed back for work, and we made the long drive home every weekend, only to return on Sunday nights.
When radiation was finally over, we tried to get back to a “normal” life. Jameson went back to school and continued chemotherapy. In March, his scans showed no signs of disease. We were overjoyed.
But in May, Jameson began complaining of arm pain near his elbow. After more visits and an MRI, we got devastating news — it was bone cancer. Days later, at his school picnic, he became too weak to walk. At the hospital, more scans revealed tumors in his brain and spine.
Doctors told us we’d be lucky if Jameson made it to Christmas. We were shattered. We started more radiation and chemo, but within weeks, the cancer spread further. Our timeline changed again — from months to weeks. We were told to “go make memories.”
So we did.
We went home on hospice and focused on cherishing every moment we had. Through it all, Jameson never lost hope. His faith remained unwavering. His favorite Bible verse became his guiding light:
“Fear not, for I am with you.” – Isaiah 41:10
Throughout his treatment, we were constantly reminded of how underfunded pediatric cancer research is. Our son was given adult chemotherapy because there were no safer, child-specific options. There’s little to no research on how these harsh adult drugs affect growing bodies — and the limitations in treatment left us heartbroken. Watching our son fight so hard, knowing his options were so limited, was unbearable. He died fighting with every bit of strength and faith he had.
Jameson’s life, his laughter, and his incredible faith leave a legacy that can never be forgotten. He taught us courage, selflessness, and the power of hope. Though his time with us was far too short, his spirit lives on in every laugh, every prayer, and every act of love he inspired.
To honor his memory, our family has started Jameson Strong, a small way to carry forward his love, faith, and light to families who are walking a similar path. But more than anything, Jameson’s story reminds us to live each day with joy, prayer, and courage — just as he did.
We will always remember Jameson — the boy who loved red, loved to laugh, loved to pray, and never stopped believing.
Together, let’s fight for Jameson, for all kids with cancer.
