Schaefer, family honor mom with dedicated kids room at cancer center

LAKE SUCCESS, N.Y. -- Matthew Schaefer stood at the podium at the R.J. Zuckerberg Cancer Center on Monday with a request for his father, Todd, who was sitting no more than six feet away.

“Hey Toddie, make sure you hold those tears in,” the New York Islanders defenseman said. “I don’t want to see that.”

Dad tried his best, really he did, but it was understandable a few minutes later when he fought tears while celebrating the opening of the Jennifer Schaefer Child Support Room, an ode to his late wife who died from breast cancer in February 2024.

To his credit, Mr. Schaefer held it together for more than a minute when it was his turn to give a speech before he began to discuss the dedicated space — which came to fruition with the help of a $150,000 donation from the Islanders Children’s Foundation — that is designed for children while their parents undergo cancer treatment. The hockey-themed room is filled with Islanders memorabilia and provides entertainment including both air and bubble hockey, as well as gaming consoles.

“My wife would be so pleased,” Todd said, his voice starting to crack.

“… The room is exactly what she would want. I know when she was battling, we didn’t have anything like this. To have a space like this where people can come in and kids can be kids and it doesn’t matter how they old they are … in her name, it couldn’t have come to a better place.”

Matthew was 16 when he lost his mother. He knows the pain a child experiences firsthand when having to say goodbye to a parent. He also remembers the days and months before, the countless hospital visits he made as a teenager with few, if any, distractions that could potentially put a smile on his face.

“When my mom was going through cancer, we wish we could have had a room where me, my brother or dad could go get a breath of fresh air,” he said. “It’s not always fun when you come to hospitals, but obviously the people around it make it super special, the doctors and nurses. To have a room like this where kids and families can go when family (members) are getting treatments, the kid can go and just be a kid and play video games … they don’t have to see their parents go through treatment, because it’s not always fun.

“You have a vision of just wanting to do something for the kids. We always wanted something like this to help kids and families. We’ve always had this vision and we’ve always wanted to give back. It just worked out perfect.”

Johnny Schaefer is nine years older than his younger brother, who went No. 1 to the Islanders at the 2025 NHL Draft. He’s obviously proud his sibling is living a dream as a 19-year-old already playing at an elite level, but he’s beaming about the contributions the Schaefer family is making off the ice.

“The impact is going to be something that I’m really looking forward to,” Johnny said. “This fell into our lap, and there’s nothing better that we could possibly do. Seeing kids deal with a sick parent going through (cancer) is terrible, (and) there’s no little kid that should have to deal with that. Having an environment like this where they can, not forget about it, but kind of harness them being scared a lot more and allow them to enjoy it, in my mom’s name, is something I’ll forever be thankful for.”

The R.J. Zuckerberg Cancer Center is part of the Northwell Health Cancer Institute. Northwell treats nearly 20,000 new cancer patients each year, making it the largest provider of cancer care in New York. Matthew fully intends to visit the room over the course of the season with the hope of being able to make people smile when they need it most.

The room will also feature personal and uplifting messages from Schaefer to the families using the space.

“Every day, there’s going to be new people coming into this room and getting the help they need — we can be getting them out of their dark shadow or if they’re having a tough time or if they’re at a low … there’s always going to be lows, there’s always going to be highs in life, and you’ve got to stay in the middle. You never know when you can help someone in need or lift someone up.

“(This is) super special. I know my mom would be smiling down right now.”