Author: Mark Myers

I am a husband of one, father of four daughters, a dreamer, a builder, a believer, and most enjoyably a writer. In 2015, I became a reluctant Childhood Cancer Advocate as we lost our youngest daughter Kylie to the disease. Kylie taught me to steal joy from even the worst of circumstances and I will always be on the lookout for happiness among the thorns of life. Join me for a generous helping of laughter and tears.

Crayon-colored Cards

.Reading time 5 minutes.

I hate greeting cards. As a boy I considered them merely speed bumps to the present. I never cared what Aunt Eunice had to say and could barely read her loopy cursive anyway. But mom made me read them, or at least look at them long enough to give the impression that I was reading when I was actually planning my assault on the wrapping paper. I know this won’t be popular at the Hallmark store but I think store-bought greeting cards are contributing to the death of the American family as much as Snapchat, emojis, and TV at dinnertime. No matter what the pre-printed writing actually says, what it really means is, “I didn’t have time to think about you so I spent $3.99 instead.”

Read More

Dear Kylie… Love, Kendall

.Reading time 6 minutes.

Dear Kylie,

I don’t know where to begin. I’ve wanted to write this for weeks now. I keep putting it off because I know writing it out will hurt, but it hurts anyway. There are so many things I want to say to you because it’s been a year. I never thought I’d go an entire year without talking to you and I never wanted to. In fact this has been the worst year of my life solely because I can’t talk to you. I haven’t seen your smile or heard your voice in so long and pictures and videos just aren’t the same. I miss you, Kylie, but it’s more than that. I missed you when you spent days in the hospital and when you were in Charlotte, but it was never like this. Sometimes I miss you so much my heart physically hurts; I didn’t even know that was possible. Too much has changed in the past year. Sometimes I fear you may not recognize me. Before I sat down to write this, I spent four hours with other people by choice! I know you have some joke to make about that, I just wish I could hear it.

Read More