Hi There,
This is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to write, and I appreciate your understanding as I aim to put words to our family's indescribable tragedy.
After a complicated & deeply emotional journey, we lost my mom on February 10th, 2026 to her battle with Pancreatic Cancer. She was the kind of person who made everyone feel like her best friend, whether she knew you for 60 years or 6 minutes. Losing her has left a void that even the most eloquent of words can't quite touch.
On August 22nd, 2025 my mother, Lisa - a woman who meant so much to so many people - was told she had Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer in the hallway of a small medical facility in her new hometown of Myrtle Beach. She had gone in for stomach pains - feeling otherwise healthy - and left with news that would change our worlds forever. I can't even begin to fathom the thoughts that raced through her head on that drive home & the weight that her partner Kevin was suddenly made to carry when she looked at him in the car and said "I am going to die".
What unfolded over the next 6 months was layers of complications, impossible decisions, and conversations no family should have to endure, let alone even begin to know how to navigate. My mom bounced between Baltimore (where I live & we grew up), Richmond (where my brother lives), and Myrtle Beach (where my grandparents live & where she chose to retire and had plans to live out her golden years) with family & friends constantly shifting our worlds & schedules to accommodate the most special lady we've ever known, now at her most vulnerable state. Between August - February, she endured countless hospital admissions, emergency visits & procedures across multiple states - often with little warning - adding an ongoing layer of emotional, logistical, and financial strain to an already overwhelming time.
Kevin spent his days in different hospital rooms with very little sleep or food, ensuring she was never alone in even her darkest of hours. I adjusted the responsibilities of my new job to be wherever & whatever she needed, even if that meant altering the upward trajectory I was so proud to finally be on. & my brother kept his phone on "loud" at all times while simultaneously preparing for one of life's greatest gifts- a baby girl on the way - amidst this impending heartbreak.
Early on in the process, my mom suffered major GI complications resulting in a terrifying 17-day stay in a hospital in Richmond as family feared the worst & rushed in from out of town to say what we thought might be our goodbyes. Once stabilized, from here she made it up to Baltimore to begin treatment at Johns Hopkins, where doctors initially remained hopeful this could be somewhat managed. However, their repeated use of the word "chronic" weighed heavily on my mom while she endured round after round of the strongest chemo available. The side effects stripped away her quality of life, and it became clear that her strength was fading, as was the light within her that had been a beacon our entire lives.
Right before Christmas, her oncology team reviewed her scans and, based on her current condition (down 80lbs since August, unable to eat or move, clearly exhausted & depressed), decided we would pause treatment for a month to help her regain some strength. Unfortunately, the opportunity to begin again never came. The cancer progressed rapidly and overtook her entire system. In this time, through a united group effort & caravan of friends, we were finally able to get her back to Myrtle Beach, where she was so happy to be back in her own space & watch the birds from her back patio.
At the end of January, she was rushed to a facility in Myrtle Beach for unidentified internal bleeding where she was then transferred to MUSC in Charleston for yet another procedure. Unfortunately, on Saturday February 7th, sitting at her bedside with her writing in pain, we received the news we had been dreading since the start of this - "There is nothing more we can do".
What followed over the next 72 hours were conversations, decisions & realizations no family should ever have to face around their matriarch.
Together, we made the decision to free her from her pain - removing any unnecessary IVs & focusing solely on her comfort. It almost felt like her final party as the hospital room flooded with familiar faces & an outpouring of love.Though she slept through much of her final days, there were these beautiful moments where she woke up, recognized who was around her, expressed her love, and even shared a sense of peace - & excitement - for what was to come.
She waited until everyone was exactly where they needed to be to peacefully pass away in the early hours of February 10th. She died with a smile on her face, and we found comfort in knowing our father (who passed away from Melanoma in 2010) was there to help her make the transition & welcome her to eternal peace.
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Over this time period, our family has been navigating not only her illness and passing, but also the weight of impending grief, logistics, and the many unexpected expenses that come with saying goodbye. No one is ever truly prepared for how much there is to manage when you lose someone - a parent, wife, daughter, & friend - who is so deeply loved. Emotionally, practically, or financially. Ryan & I are struggling with feeling untethered, as both of our parents are now together in the skies and we are forced, at only 29 & 32 years old, to find a way to keep going.
As a family, we decided to utilize this platform to help cover memorial costs (incl. the celebration of life she deserves - one that is worthy of the "queen of parties" herself), medical & end of life expenses, and the many unforeseen costs that we've incurred along the way. Any support will help provide our family with a bit of breathing room as we grieve and begin to stand on our feet in this world again.
Please know that even sharing this page, sending a message, or holding our family in your thoughts means more than we can ever express. If you feel compelled to donate, we are incredibly thankful. Above all, your love & support are truly what will carry us through. Any contribution, no matter the size, will go directly towards easing the financial burden during this incredibly difficult time and allowing our family to focus on healing and honoring her larger-than-life memory. We also want to acknowledge and show appreciation to anyone who has already contributed to our healing in any way. Whether it was reaching out with sympathies, dropping off groceries, offering us a place to stay, or simply sitting with us in the grief, your presence means the world to us at this time.
Thank you for reading, sharing, and enveloping us in love at the most difficult time of our lives. We appreciate you for helping us honor the memory of a wonderful woman who would never let anyone feel forgotten.
With Love,
Samantha Stinchcomb