Jennifer Bowman wrote -
Carey Bowman had a big appetite. As a boy, he would fork-fight over that last pancake, even if he hadn’t finished what was on his plate. He loved his food.
And life, he loved life with a passion. Carey was a voracious reader, and practically swallowed books whole, memorizing passages that struck him as funny. Or poignant. Or simply well-turned.
The smallest pleasures gave him pause and he could barely wait for spring so our lilacs would bloom. Heady-scented in the warm Virginia air, he’d insist there was no better smell, ever.
Before he was 10 Carey decided to become a Chicago Cubs fan. Our hearts ached, but he would not be deterred. As he grew he memorized their stats, lineups, and history and would argue any of it just for fun.
He saw humor in everything and metaphorically head-locked others to see it, too.
Carey loved being in the Air Force, learning, reading, pushing himself to try harder. He ran marathons, went vegetarian, finished college, sewed on new ranks at record rate. He deployed twice to combat, won awards, told jokes, recited Shakespeare, and impersonated the brass.
And he deeply loved his family. First, his parents and brother, then later his beautiful wife and two sweet little sons. It seemed a strong life, at 25 years, was laid out in front of him, wide and inviting.
But then came cancer. A thief.
Carey died Thanksgiving day. And our loss is like nothing ever foreknown. We know we’re not the first parents to lose a child to Sarcoma cancer. But someday, some parents will be the last ones and we can’t get there fast enough. Please consider donating to the Sarcoma Foundation so we can destroy this killer once and for all. We cannot afford, as a world, to lose people like Carey, impassioned, funny, and ready to high-five anyone he met.