I never imagined I'd be writing this, but my big brother needs us now more than ever. In September, Gary was diagnosed with lymphoma. At 48 years old, his whole world turned upside down and for someone like Gary, that world was always meant to be lived outdoors, fully, and freely. He had to move back home to my mother's house in Washington from Mexico for treatment, leaving his life behind for his health. Growing up, Gary protected me and was the person I always went to first. Now it's my turn to be there for him. Throughout his life, he's faced struggle after struggle and overcome every single one with determination and fight. He's a hiker, a surfer, an outdoorsman whose soul comes alive on the trails and in the water. He's caring, loving, and would do anything for anyone without a second thought. Now he's facing the biggest fight of his life, one that he can't overcome on his own. Our family rallied around him immediately—his 25-year-old son even moved back to Washington just to be closer to his dad during this battle. Gary will turn 49 on March 18th—a birthday we're desperately praying to celebrate together. Just when we thought we could see the light at the end of the tunnel, we received crushing news: the chemotherapy isn't working. The end date Gary had been holding onto—just three weeks away when he could finally go home and be reunited with his dog—has vanished. Instead, he's facing more biopsies and a completely new treatment plan. We don't know how much longer this fight will last. For a man who has spent his life hiking mountains and riding waves, being locked inside, weak and sick, has been torture. What worries us most isn't just the physical toll—it's his mental health. Watching someone so active, so alive, be reduced to lying in bed is devastating. The financial stress is pushing him to the breaking point. He feels horrible relying on my mother, myself, and even his son, who is barely getting by on his own. He's traveling back and forth to Seattle for treatment, getting weaker with each round of chemo, yet still worrying about: Paying his rent and bills when he can't work Caring for his beloved dog during treatment Affording food to keep his strength up Managing mounting medical costs Gary deserves to focus on surviving. He deserves to be here for his son. He deserves the chance to hike those trails again, to feel the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. Please help Gary get through this fight. Any support means the world to our family and gives Gary hope for better days ahead.