Cheyenne Cundell

For Bucky

In August 2025, we lost my stepdad far too soon. He was only in his mid-forties. An age that still feels like the middle of a story, not the end of one. His passing left a space in our lives that can’t be filled, only carried.

I’m registering to walk for the Heart and Stroke Foundation in his honor — not just because of how he died, but because of how he lived.

He wasn’t someone who had to be there for me. He chose to be. And that choice is something I will never take for granted.

He stepped into our lives and became a steady presence — the kind of person you could count on without question. He showed up, again and again, in big ways and small ones. Whether it was support, advice, laughter, or just being there when it mattered most — he gave it freely. Not out of obligation, but out of love.

That’s what made him so special.

When I think about him, I don’t just think about the loss. I think about the example he set. Of what it means to love people fully. To step up even when you don’t have to. To be someone others can rely on.

Walking in his honor is my way of continuing that legacy.

It’s a way to channel grief into something meaningful. To take the pain of losing him and turn it into action — action that supports research, awareness, and hopefully helps prevent other families from experiencing the same kind of loss.

Heart disease and stroke don’t always come with warnings. They don’t always wait until “later in life.” And that reality hits differently now.

This walk is for him — for the life he lived, the love he gave, and the impact he made on all of us.

It’s also for my family. For the memories we hold onto. For the stories we’ll keep telling. For the way he continues to shape who we are, even though he’s no longer here physically.

And it’s for anyone who has ever lost someone too soon.

If you’re able to support, whether by donating, walking alongside me, or simply sharing this message, it means more than I can put into words.

Because this isn’t just a walk.

It’s a tribute.
It’s a thank you.
It’s a promise that he won’t be forgotten.