Our sweet boy. So full of life. The reason this foundation exists.
Gavin was born on July 6, 2016 — a date we've said a thousand times over. He was a fighter from the very beginning. At six months old he was diagnosed with failure to thrive, and after months of appointments we learned he was burning more calories breathing than he could take in. He had surgery at nine months, and we believed the hardest days were behind us.
Gavin was happy and loving, with a smile on his face about 90% of the time. He was spunky, and he loved talking with anyone who would talk with him. He actually loved going to the hospital and would get upset when it was time to leave. Toward the end, when he didn't feel up to talking, he still loved having people sit beside him and watch YouTube.
He loved his Nintendo Switch and his iPad, Culver's, Pokémon, anime, trivia, roller coasters, penguins, Roblox, Squishmallows, the Iowa Hawkeyes — and so much more. He was so full of life.
Shortly after he turned four, Gavin began having fevers and pain when he walked. After several trips to the pediatrician and the ER, we were transferred to Iowa City — and the next morning, a resident told us they had found a tumor. The diagnosis was stage 4 high-risk neuroblastoma, with a 40–50% survival rate. From the very beginning, we knew we were in for a fight.
He had surgery to remove the tumor and place his port, followed by five rounds of chemo, and then a stem cell transplant in Madison, WI. While there, he went into septic shock and we almost lost him — and afterward he needed extensive therapy to walk, talk, and eat again. When we returned to Iowa City, we learned he had relapsed, dropping his survival rate to 5%. He pressed on through 12 rounds of radiation, high-dose chemo, and two years of immunotherapy that helped keep the cancer stable.
In March of 2023 he relapsed again. We traveled to New York and Philadelphia to meet some of the best neuroblastoma doctors in the country, and followed a plan that included MIBG therapy, clinical trials, and more immunotherapy to buy precious time. In December 2025 — the very same day his baby sister Isabella was born — doctors found a tumor pressing on Gavin's spine. One of the hardest days and one of the most joyful, woven together into a single afternoon. He had surgery and radiation, but it was growing too quickly. Across five and a half years, we made roughly 300 trips to Iowa City and around 20 trips to Philadelphia. Through every bit of it — more than most of us could ever imagine — Gavin stayed our happy, loving boy.
All along the way, a community of thousands rallied behind two words that became his mantra: Gavin Strong. That strength is what we carry forward now, in everything this foundation does.
On February 4, 2026, just shy of his tenth birthday, Gavin went to be with our Lord. He left behind a family who adored him and a community changed forever by his light.
Gavin wasn't the only one who walked this road. His brother and sisters — Tyler, Emma, Grace, and Isabella — didn't have cancer, but their lives were forever changed. They watched their brother be sick, were separated from us, celebrated holidays in the hospital, moved in with grandparents to stay in school, and, most heartbreakingly, lost their brother. They have carried it all with incredible strength.
During Gavin's journey, a few organizations gave small care packages to siblings — but we never found one dedicated entirely to them. That's why we started A Sibling's Love: so the brothers and sisters who fight a quieter battle are seen, comforted, and cared for. In Gavin's honor, we provide sibling care packages at the University of Iowa, create care packages for parents at the time of diagnosis, and contribute to neuroblastoma research — and over the next five years, we hope to give back to Stead Family Children's Hospital to create a space in Gavin's honor.
Gavin with each of his siblings — Tyler, Emma, Grace, and Isabella.
