If you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing our dad, Dave—affectionately known to many as “Papa Dave”, then you already know: he’s that guy.

He’s the life of the party, the funniest person in the room, and the one you call when you need anything. He’s the kind of man who restores your faith in humanity. I truly don’t think he’s ever met a stranger. He is kind, generous, and one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. He would (and has) given the shirt off his back to anyone in need.

Everywhere he and our mom have lived, they’ve built a community. They’ve consistently shown up for others, often putting their own needs aside to help those around them. That’s just who he is, and who he has always been.

After raising two children on his own, he then chose to step up and raise three more he had no obligation to, but loved as his own without hesitation. And when the time came to help raise one of his stepdaughter’s sons, he did that too, happily and with no hesitation.

Simply put, he is an incredible human being who has spent his life working hard to better the lives of the people he meets. Now it’s our turn.

Our dad was recently diagnosed with stage IV metastatic prostate adenocarcinoma, the most aggressive form of prostate cancer. While it is treatable, it is not curable. Right now, the focus is on managing symptoms, slowing progression, and maintaining his quality of life.

Last October, he underwent neck surgery to address pain that was believed to be from years of physical labor. While the surgery helped briefly, the pain quickly returned. Just a couple of months ago, during a visit for an unrelated issue, he received the devastating diagnosis no one ever wants to hear.

He has already begun medication to slow the growth, and thankfully, it is helping. However, a full-body scan revealed that the cancer has spread throughout his skeletal system. Because of this, his mobility has been severely limited, and he now needs to begin an intensive treatment plan.

He will undergo targeted radiation therapy every day for 2–3 weeks while also taking chemotherapy pills. After that, he will transition to chemotherapy infusions three times a week for 6–7 weeks. Each of these treatments requires a 45-minute drive one way, adding both physical and financial strain.

At home, our mom is carrying everything: caring for him full-time, managing the household, transporting him to appointments, homeschooling their special-needs grandson, and helping raise another grandson. The weight of it all is immense.

They need help.

Beyond covering the costs of treatment and travel, we would love for them to have the chance to do some of the things they’ve always dreamed of.

Papa Dave has spent his entire life showing up for others. Let’s come together and show up for him.

If you’re able, please consider donating or sharing. And if you have a story about Dave, we would love for you to share that here as well.

If you have any questions, please reach out to me or my sister, Nicole Wade. We’re happy to help however we can, so our mom can focus on caring for Dad and getting the rest they both need.

Thank you so much for your love and support.