Help Our Dad Continue His Cancer Fight

Cancer.

The start of many heartbreaking stories—and for our family, that’s no different. But my dad’s story doesn’t begin with cancer because he’s always been so much more than this disease.

My dad is a fighter in every sense of the word. Growing up with limited means in a single-parent home, he had to figure things out for himself from an early age. He worked hard, fought his way into college, and dreamed of building a better future. But when finances got too tight, he had no choice but to drop out—and so it was time for him to do what he does best: fight.

He went straight to work—not at one, not two, but three jobs—to support himself and build a foundation. A few years later, he met my mom. They instantly fell in love, got married, and became parents at just 22 years old. While my mom continued her education, my dad kept working those three jobs to keep our little family afloat. And somehow, no matter how tired he was, he always showed up for us first.

Over the years, as our family grew to five, he never stopped. He worked endless overtime hours, took night shifts, and always said yes to extra projects. He showed up to every game, every competition, helped with every last-minute science project (even if it was the night before…sorry Dad). He gave everything he had, every single day.

I always dreamed of the day when my parents—especially my dad—wouldn’t have to fight so hard anymore.

In 2021, it finally felt like they made it. They bought their dream home in an Arizona retirement community, building their own little slice of paradise surrounded by sunshine and incredible neighbors. My dad was starting a business, and with retirement in sight, everything they worked for was finally within reach.

Then, in September of 2024, he was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. This wasn’t just any tumor—it was larger than a football and deemed inoperable.

So began the endless cycle of doctor visits, hospital stays, and aggressive treatment—including extensive rounds of radiation and powerful chemotherapy. Despite the overwhelming toll, my dad never stopped showing up for the people he loves. During my wedding, he created backdrops, signage, floor wraps, and customized golf balls and hats—and if you were there, you know he didn’t leave the dance floor once.

Then came the words no one wants to hear: “The chemotherapy isn’t working.”

Our next option was CAR-T therapy, a highly invasive treatment with a 70% chance of curing him. That hope got us through. But the treatment nearly killed him. He became unresponsive, was moved to the ICU, and spent a full week there. He then endured another three weeks in the hospital, followed by physical therapy to relearn how to walk. Still, we clung to hope, waiting anxiously for results.

Thirty days later, more devastating news: “The cancer is back—and it’s growing fast.”

For the last seven months, neither of my parents have been able to work. My dad’s health makes it impossible, and my mom—who is a flight attendant—can’t travel for work because she needs to be by his side. With near-daily appointments, hospital stays, and emergencies, they are navigating an exhausting and terrifying battle with no steady income.

While our family is doing everything we can to help cover their basic needs, the mounting medical costs, prescription expenses, and day-to-day living costs are becoming too much for them to carry alone.

It has always been my dream to see my dad become a grandpa one day—to watch him hold my future kids, to see the same love and devotion he gave to us passed on to a new generation. I imagine him skipping hand in hand with them down Main Street in Disneyland, just like we did when I was little—smiling, laughing, and soaking in every magical moment.

We’re not ready to let go of that dream. And that’s why we’re asking for help.

This is where the ask comes in. For my dad to continue seeking treatment and fight for his life, we need to ask for help. Asking for help doesn’t come easy for us Johnsons, but we really need it now.

Every single dollar helps—truly. Whether it’s $5 or $500, your generosity will help ease the burden of medical expenses and living costs, and give them the space to focus on what matters most: his health, and time together. And if you’re not in a position to donate right now, please know that your thoughts, prayers, and well wishes mean just as much to us during this time.

The next step of his journey includes an assortment of medications, additional chemotherapy, and—hopefully—a bone marrow transplant in the future.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for reading, sharing, and supporting our family.

Love,

Madison and the whole Johnson Family