November 19, 1977 – May 13, 2025
Jason’s cancer journey didn’t begin in a hospital room or with a single diagnosis—it started quietly, almost invisibly, long before the words “Stage 4 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma” were ever spoken. The first warning sign came nearly a year and a half before we understood the gravity of what was unfolding. Jason began experiencing drainage from his nipple—something he brushed off, choosing to ignore what we now know was a glaring red flag. Over time, the nipple ulcerated. Still, he remained in denial, always trying to protect others from worry.
Then came the shortness of breath. The chronic cough. His body was begging for help. But, ever stubborn and self-reliant, Jason continued forward as though nothing was wrong. It took a heartfelt plea from a close friend, a nurse practitioner, who called and begged him to go to the hospital. And finally, he listened.
That day in August 2021 changed everything.
He walked into the hospital thinking it was just a check-up. Instead, he was admitted, his lungs were drained of two liters of fluid, multiple CT scans were run, and a liver biopsy was performed. The results came back quickly and devastatingly: Stage 4 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma—an aggressive form of breast cancer, already spread to his liver, lungs, bones, and later, his brain.
The prognosis was grim. Doctors talked in months, not years. But Jason wasn’t one to surrender to statistics. Jason brought a calm determination as he prepared to fight a battle with odds stacked against him. Those who knew Jason weren’t surprised. He had always been fiercely determined in the face of adversity. Cancer may have entered his life, but it never claimed his identity. He bore the fight with grace, strength, and sheer defiance.
Treatment started just two days after his diagnosis. Chemotherapy, radiation, immunotherapy—he went through them all. The side effects were harsh: nausea, neuropathy, fatigue, blurry vision, and numb fingers. His lungs had to be drained multiple times. His body was worn, but his spirit never was. Not once did he complain, and he wasn’t going to let it slow him down.
There were hospital stays—some routine, others terrifying. One night, severe abdominal pain sent him to the ER. He was rushed into emergency surgery for a perforated bowel obstruction, quickly complicated by sepsis. A colostomy was placed, and the recovery was brutal. His wound had to be left open, and he required daily in-home wound care. Chemo was paused so his body could heal, though his mindset remained unwavered.
Eventually, his body did heal. Months later, chemotherapy resumed. Then came another blow—an unquenchable thirst led to a brain MRI, revealing even wider-spread tumors in his brain. He underwent whole-brain radiation in November 2024 and later, additional radiation to his femur to relieve the bone pain from tumor metastasis.
Even as his body betrayed him, Jason never gave up. He never stopped fighting.
Through it all, Jason insisted on living. He kept working—not only as a distraction or for financial reasons, but to stay true to himself. The office was his sanctuary. Even when treatment left him fatigued, even walking became difficult, he made the effort to stop by. Some days he only stayed for minutes. But those minutes mattered. They anchored him in purpose, reminding him who he was.
He didn’t just endure—he thrived. He loved deeply. He showered his partner, Chrissy, with affection and adoration. His daughter Kaydence was the perpetual beacon that guided him to be the father and role model she deserved. Jason was the uncle who never missed a chance to give batting tips or send gifts that brought joy to their childhoods. Cancer changed his body, but it never changed how he showed up for others.
Jason’s impact extended beyond his fight. When one of his brother’s close friends was diagnosed with cancer, Jason stepped in without hesitation. He shared practical advice, answered every question, and made suggestions to help ease the chemo experience. His compassion was boundless. Even while navigating his storm, he helped others through theirs.
In January 2025, another bowel obstruction landed him back in the hospital. His body was growing weary, but Jason’s will never wavered. In early May 2025, after nearly four years of fighting, the decision was made to enter in-home hospice care. He spent his final days being cared for by the people who loved him, surrounded by the people he loved, and wrapped in the peace he had long deserved.
On May 13, 2025, Jason Lader passed away. But cancer never won. Because Jason never stopped living, not for one day.
He defied every timeline. He outlived his prognosis more than twice over. And more importantly, he lived on his terms. He chose laughter. He chose love. He chose purpose. Even in his final days, he remained a wise confidante, a caring father, a devoted partner, a generous uncle, and a loyal brother.
If you ask who Jason was, you’ll hear this: He was strength. He was faithful. He was kindness wrapped in resilience. He made every room brighter. Every conversation was deeper. Every challenge was lighter. Cancer may have taken his body, but it never came close to touching his soul.
Jason’s story is not one of tragedy. It is a story of resistance, grace, faith, and love. It is a story of showing up every day with courage, humor, and heart. And for all of us who had the privilege to know him, his legacy is evident: when faced with darkness, choose light. When given a timeline, defy it. And when given the chance to love, give it everything you’ve got.
Jason lived that way. And in doing so, he taught us all how to live.
** Special thanks to Chrissy Stewart for authoring this tribute