Auckland boy Caiden MacGibbon, 7, loses DIPG cancer battle before bucket list Bluey trip

Caiden MacGibbon loved to smile. He was hooked on Bluey and doted on his birds. He was a 7-year-old boy who - says his mum through tears - “deserved all the love in the world”.

In July this year, Tourism Queensland - after seeing a story in the NZ Herald about the then-6-year-old living with inoperable brain cancer stage four Diffuse Midline Glioma (DMG/DIPG) - offered to help get the family to Brisbane when Bluey’s World opened in November.

Through generous donations raised via a Givealittle page and the kindness of NZ Herald readers, their journey looked to be a reality, enabling them to now fit in some more dream experiences with their boy.

The Herald visited the family at home at the time and shared the happy news.

The MacGibbon family are remembering their son and brother Caiden who 'deserved all the love in the world'. Photo / Karl MacGibbon

But it was a trip he never got to make.

As his choir of birds sang at 6.05am on November 20 - less than two weeks on from the planned trip to Bluey’s World - Caiden died at home, surrounded by his family.

In September, the cancer was found to be progressing. In early November he lost full use of the left side of his body and the ability to walk.

But Caiden was a strong-minded and determined “old soul” who never let his disease define him.

The concept of a legacy isn’t one that any parent of a recently-turned 7-year-old should have to think about, but when asked what she wanted people to know about her son, Auckland mum Jasmine says Caiden “taught us a lot about life”.

Caiden's mum Jasmine says the 7-year-old 'taught us a lot about life'. Photo / Jasmine MacGibbon

He discovered Bluey while undergoing radiation treatment in the hospital and resonated with the character’s cheeky personality. Caiden taught his parents about slowing down and living for the moment. Together they found joy in walks, picking daisies and making wishes while blowing on dandelion fairies.

One special memory came just a few days before his death when the family spent time at Auckland Domain after a hospital visit. There, Caiden was “mesmerised” by a mother duck and her duckling.

“He wanted to follow them everywhere she went, and this little duckling was hovering around his wheelchair,” Jasmine says.

Caiden got emotional when they had to leave that day, “but that was beautiful, not having to rush and just watching his little mind take it all in”.

He was, his parents say, a boy that smiled more than he cried. Just as Bluey held a special place in his heart, so did his birds. His parents refer to that love as an “addiction”.

The day after the young boy’s funeral, Karl and Jasmine sit in the living room of their West Auckland home. A brightly decorated Christmas tree sits nearby. The family celebrated early this year. Santa even made an off-schedule visit days before Caiden died.

Caiden MacGibbon loved the outdoors and all kinds of birds. Photos / Jasmine MacGibbon

Today a collection of flowers and memories of their son fills a corner of the room. The calls of indoor birds fill the room as the couple remembers their boy.

Caiden got his first small aviary and two small budgies after his diagnosis. Both the aviary size and the number of birds grew over time. Jasmine estimates they now have close to 130.

“They knew that Caiden was their protector and their safe space,” Jasmine says with a warm smile.

For Karl, that bird addiction resulted in some “pretty special” memories with Caiden, making bird toys together and teaching his son to use tools and make things.

He pauses, before looking up again.

“It’s going to leave a big hole.”

Caiden was diagnosed on November 14, 2022 - a day that Jasmine remembers, “very well”, down to the exact hospital room they were in.

There was a CT scan and a doctor with a look of “devastation on her face”, who insisted Jasmine call Karl in to support her before they spoke about the diagnosis. Caiden had a tumour in his brain stem.

The MacGibbon family got to tick off some very special bucket list items together. Photo / Jasmine MacGibbon

“I just remember … not being able to breathe, and pacing the floor. I think I asked the nurse: ‘Tell me my son isn’t going to die’. She just looked at me and she just couldn’t say anything.”

More tests and radiation followed, and Jasmine knew the outcome would be bad, due to the fatal nature of DIPG.

“But you still hold on to hope, because miracles happen, right?”

But even with his “new normal”, Caiden still “smiled more than he cried”.

He’d flap his arms like wings when he got excited - something Jasmine thinks was him wanting to fly like his birds.

He, like many young boys, feared being away from home and his parents, even before he got sick. He didn’t want a bar of daycare when he was 4 and managed to wrangle his way into joining his mum and dad on date nights. That extra time together, says Jasmine, was precious.

Kaylee, Caiden, Karl and Jasmine MacGibbon. Photo / Jasmine MacGibbon

He was an “adored” big brother to 4-year-old Kaylee and younger brother to 20-year-old Bianca.

The usual life expectancy with DIPG is between 9 and 12 months, but Caiden beat those odds. He survived for - Karl says without missing a beat - “737 days”.

Over the past year, the family was able to tick off some bucket list items thanks to donations from the public, including a memorable trip to Australia in May.

“We’d really like to thank everyone for being our village, and for all the love and support,” Jasmine says, before urging people to look into the work that charity RUN DIPG is doing in raising awareness for the disease and raising funds for research.

“If people want to donate somewhere that is the best cause to donate to because kids will die. Kids need to have a chance to fight this,” she says.

Caiden was farewelled in a private at-home service on Monday. He lay in a small open casket that was wrapped with colourful images of those birds he loved. Doves and helium balloons were released, and a selection of feathers he’d collected over the years were placed in his coffin.

Just one week on from his death, it doesn’t feel real yet, says Jasmine.

“It almost feels like … you’re having an out-of-body experience and it’s a dream, or that it isn’t your child.“

After announcing the news of her Caiden’s death on Facebook, she remembers her feed “lighting up with candles”.

“I think he will hold a special place in everyone’s heart,” she says.

“He deserves to be remembered.”