I’m starting a GoFundMe for my mom, Darci—the grandma who never sits still. She’s the one chasing grandkids through the yard, baking cookies at midnight, and working 6 days a week, 50 hours, all on her own. She’s our rock.

Then March 2025 hit like a freight train. A bowel obstruction. Life-flighted to Fargo. Five emergency surgeries in six days. She slipped into a coma, and every beep of those machines felt like it could be her last. We prayed, we cried, we begged God to let her stay. By some miracle, she woke up—but they’d taken 13 feet of her lower intestine to save her life.

That was just the beginning of the nightmare. Her body can’t hold onto nutrients anymore. Short gut syndrome. She’s melted away—40 pounds gone, down to 93 lbs. My strong, unstoppable mom now looks so fragile it breaks my heart.

Thank God for the Hickman line—a tube straight to her heart, pumping liquid nutrition just to keep her alive. But the hits keep coming: Mayo Clinic flights, hotel rooms that feel like second homes, endless procedures, missed paychecks, prescriptions we can’t afford, special food she can barely keep down. The bills are drowning us.

Darci can’t work. She can’t even stand long enough to cook. Asking for help? That’s the last thing she’d ever do. But I’m her son, and I can’t watch her fight this alone.

If she’s touched your life—if she’s ever made your kid laugh, hugged you through a bad day, or shown up when no one else did—please, anything you can give keeps her fighting. Every dollar is hope. Thank you for seeing her, for loving her, for helping us bring our Darci home.