Support the McCombs Family in Their Loss

In late February 2025, the McCombs family lost their guiding light. Donna McCombs, loving wife and mother, passed away at the age of 62 while reading in bed. She loved her husband, Larry, and her sons, Larry and David more than life itself. Her nieces were very special to her.

Words cannot describe how much she is loved, missed, and cherished.

Please consider lending a helping hand to the family, who are grief-stricken and struggling to put the pieces back together in her absence.

We miss you, Mom.

-Your boys <3

----- From Dave:

The light at the center of my world has been extinguished. I got the call the other day that all sons and daughters dread, but most have to suffer one day.

My mother has suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. She was only 62. By all accounts, she passed peacefully. "Fairy tale" peacefully -- she told my dad what she wanted for dinner, crawled into bed to read, fell asleep, and never woke up.

It must have happened very suddenly, given the short time she was alone.

We did not get to say goodbye. However, I am happy that we talked every day and that we told each other we loved one another nearly every day.

We didn't always get along when I was a young adult, but the last few years, we became best friends. I was an FDA-certified mama's boy. And we both loved it.

There wasn't a single Godfather or Forrest Gump quote we wouldn't spam at each other for absolutely no reason. I can't tell you how many times I woke up to a message like "It was YOU, Fredo!" Lol.

I talked to her the morning-of. Her last message to me was a heart. Mine was telling her not to shovel her driveway herself.

I told her on Valentine's day that she was the best mom ever.

I saw her in person for the last time a few weeks ago. On the 12th. I thought she looked better than she had in years! I slipped a bit on the ice in my driveway and she leaned down to pick me up, even with all of her mobility issues.

What a touching metaphor for what she's meant to me, and how she cared for me like nothing else in the wide world. Lord knows I've slipped on some ice, and she was always there to pick me up, no matter what.

Us both wearing "no one fights alone" bracelets helped me understand and wear her support and love like armor when I was sick with cancer. Nothing could make me happier in retrospect than deciding to hang in the fight.

She always bragged about me doing that, lol. So fucking glad I could give that to her and not let her see her child die.

The day after I learned of her passing, I felt I might need to be hospitalized, and I put some friends "on duty."

I couldn't stabilize my breathing or heart rate, I was sweating profusely despite sitting in arctic air, and I had to grab onto the walls and railings to safeguard myself from falling because my vision kept greying out.

Never have I felt such a visceral reaction to anything before. Ever. It felt like a days-long heart attack.

It's relentless. I feel like I can suddenly remember every single car ride, walk through a store, sit-down dinner, and everything in-between. I've cried so much that I think I wiped one of my eyes cross-eyed, lol.

I keep having dreams where I'm flying to a small island or platform with her on it, and I try to show her something I built. I dunno, furniture or a machine or something. But my legs crumble like mummy dust and I wake up.

What's haunting me perhaps more than any one thing is that a few weeks ago, she sent me Oh Child by the Five Stairsteps. You know the song, "Oh child, things are gonna get eas-i-errr."

She said "This is my song to you, please listen. I'm crying so hard right now."

Feels like she was reaching through time to put an arm on my shoulder. Silly, but that song choice tho? So far, no dice on it getting any easier or brighter. In fact I've had some of my worst days yet lately. But I hope so soon.

Anyway, it's not really about me.

My parents were together for forty years. My dad finally got to retire last summer, and was looking forward to spending the free time he'd worked his whole life for with the love of his life.

They didn't even get a full year together.

The timing is cruel all-around. My mom and I had just agreed on some shows to binge and gossip about together. I'd convinced her to think about letting me open an eBay store for her crafts. My dad just picked up her groceries, and medicine (which cost $1100 alone) a few hours before she passed.

Her long-lost brother whom she'd just discovered (grandpa was a wild one, long story) just bought a house in Sodus to spend summers here with his long-lost sister.

They got to eat lunch together once.

Anyway, ya'll. In lieu of flowers or food, the family asks that you consider a charitable donation to a cause that is significant to you in her name (Donna McCombs). She would be particularly happy to learn of any consideration of a COPD or pulmonary edema charity (which were her illnesses), or something for Hodgkin's Lymphoma, which was the cancer I suffered with.

I'll eat shit for it later, but. I want to spend more time with my dad, and I want to keep him engaged and positive and healthily busy. Most importantly, I want to help contribute more than I'm able to toward the astronomical cost of this happening, and so suddenly.

I want to help with the fact that half the home's income is gone.

Not sure how to wrap this up, so I'll leave you with a fact that my mom was delighted to learn (and share) with everyone: Sloths crawl down from their trees once or twice a week to stick their whole ass in a puddle of water to shit, lol.

Much love, ya'll.