story by
chris hughes
A moving account of fear, resilience, love, optimism, and mortality.
Chris lived on Easy Street in a leafy first-ring suburb of Minneapolis until he was confronted with the greatest challenge of his life.
In this Grandma Marge Edition, Chris shares personal stories and observations about illness and health, life and death, the importance of family and friends, and living in the present - minus all of the f-bombs and foul language he couldn't help himself from using in the original version.
At times hilarious and heartbreaking, Chris weaves together stories about himself and those around him who are going through their own battles with honesty, wit, and humor. This book beautifully and simply captures the essence of being human and the power of gratitude. A must read for anyone trying to hang on to a sense of normalcy in times of tremendous uncertainty.
“one of the best books i’ve ever read. impossible to put down.”
— Jan Hughes, Chris’s mom
“i’m so glad he is done writing this. we are tired of hearing about it.”
— Estella Hughes and Georgia Hughes, Chris’s daughters, and Becky Burley, Chris’s girlfriend
“One of the best books currently out featuring tim trujillo. a must read.”
— Tim Trujillo, Chris’s friend
About Chris
Chris Hughes writes privileged and confidential emails such as “Looks ok on my end,” “No worries,” or “Let’s talk live” as an in-house healthcare attorney. He’s the father of twin daughters and managed to survive his battle with cancer when they were thirteen to see them grow up. Born in southern Minnesota, Chris resides in Minneapolis, but has lived as far away as Madison, Wisconsin. While firmly rooted in the Midwest, Chris remains in constant motion, and can be found walking the beaches of Mexico, skiing in Colorado, hiking in Iceland, drinking a beer in Munich, or exploring old villages in the South of France. He loves listening to Minnesota Public Radio and falls asleep nightly to The Daily with his partner Becky.
HERE ARE SOME PICTURES I TOOK DURING MY JOURNEY AND A FEW from OTHERS MENTIONED IN THE BOOK.
THESE PICTURES HELPED ME RECREATE MY STORY.
Estella at Cedar Lake beach when she was 13.
Georgia at The Farm in Door County a few months before my diagnosis.
The girls and me watching the sunset at Cedar Lake.
A week before my diagnosis. Not a care in the world, hiking in Glacier.
Sent this one to my mom during my second round of chemo treatment to let her know I was okay. My eyelids were still a little puffy from the lesions under my lids but they were already getting better.
Goslings on Cedar Lake during one of my morning walks.
My mom and dad sending me a virtual hug early in my journey.
Walking around Lake of the Isles with my friend Curt, three months after my diagnosis.
From my solo trip after my second round of chemo.
Beauty shot from my solo trip.
Taking in a Twins game with my buddy John between my second and third round of chemo.
Post-tennis bullshitting. Just before my third round of chemo.
One of Becky's favorite pics taken in her backyard not long after we met. I started getting my hair cut short to prepare for losing it.
Cedar Lake sunrise.
First selfie I ever sent to Becky. From the waiting room before my third round of chemo.
Mark during one of his chemo treatments.
Breakfast with my friend John after my third round of chemo.
My old Ducati next to John's Harley on our way to breakfast.
Diane and Snoop by Cedar Lake after she had finished all of her rounds of chemo.
Round three of six. It seems everyone smiles for their chemo pics. Must be because it's so much fun!
Taking in a Twins game with friends, Nicole, Miah, and Chris, after my third round of chemo.
Becky at Tettechouche State Park. From our first North Shore trip.
Becky and me at the Lutsen Lodge beach enjoying the sun and a pre-mixed old-fashioned.
Becky showing off her outdoorsy skills on our first trip together after my third round of chemo. We had a lovely view overlooking Lake Superior at an off-the-grid camping spot.
Becky, her nephew, and me sailing on Awesome Steve's boat.
Last sunset paddle boarding of the season. Late summer with "Strange Magic" playing from the beach.
Mary's friend gave each of her toe nails a different color of polish.
My colleague and friend, Mary, relaxing at her Cape house between treatments.
Mark, my favorite Marine, early in the biggest battle of his life.
The pic I sent to Becky after I broke free from the hospital during my first in-patient chemo treatment to let her know my spirit was back. The smile was real but exagerated.
My mom by the Mississippi on one of my jailbreaks from in-patient chemo. This was the walk where I felt the need to show her I was still strong.
John giving me a buzz cut in preparation for losing my hair. The hair that never ended up falling out.
Mark and me on one of our walks at Westwood Nature Center. Mark sent this one to our boss, Desiree, to show her we were both okay. Mark had just finished his fourth round of chemo and I had just finished my first round of in-patient chemo.
Having a bite on the U of MN campus lawn during another in-patient jailbreak. At least I was wearing sunscreen.
Walking around campus in between antibiotic infusions during my unexpected week at the hospital. You can see the bandage around my IV.
Diane meeting me at Gooseberry Falls State Park the week after I got the news I was in remission.
Diane on the shore of Lake Superior at Gooseberry Falls.
Diane's dog, Snoop, high above Lake Superior.
One of my all time faves. Diane's moment of Zen watching the sunrise at Gooseberry Falls State Park.
Mark, with our old boss, Desiree. Between his rounds of treatment, Mark took a trip to Chicago to visit her. Love this pic.
Becky and me enjoying a beautiful late-summer day.
Mark and me at Westwood Nature Center. This was shortly before we had our PET scans to learn if our chemo worked.
The deer I bonded with the morning I would learn the results of my PET scan following chemo.
The sunrise on the morning I would learn if my chemo worked.
That first celebratory beer at the Black Forest Inn in Minneapolis after learning I was in remission.
Kerid Crater in Iceland. Less than a month after learning I was in remission.
Clearly happy to be in Iceland with Becky.
This was the hike where I knew I had my energy back regardless of what my blood tests showed.
The Blue Lagoon. A place made for Instagram. And priced accordingly.
Hiking around Lake Eibsee in Germany.
The old man in Salzburg who gave Becky the rose. He couldn't have been kinder.
A beer in the Bavarian Alps to top off a hike.
The wet ride where I thought I was going to get an earful! Not sure how real that smile is.
Bike tour in Munich.
Oktoberfest!!!
From the sculpture garden off the freeway in the middle of South Dakota on our way to the Badlands.
Big sky and big horns.
I made it!
My mom and dad. This picture captures them well.
'Merica
Diane rolling up to Wall Drug in her big rig.
Sharing the wine with my mom.
Our view of the sunrise over the Badlands.
Becky's not a morning person, but she enjoyed getting up for this.
Nothing like a morning cup of coffee while camping!
Our Badlands caravan. Diane in the back of my camper van with Becky.
From the Space Needle in Seattle a few months after learning I was in remission.
The girls with the Oregon coast in the background.
Haystack Rock with the girls.
Becky and me as Goose and Maverick for Halloween about three months after finishing treatment.
Becky and me at a Twins game with my buddy, Tim, behind us. He actually watches the games.
My colleague and friend, Mary. She sent this to me from St. Paul de Vence not long after finishing her cancer treatment with a note reminding me that life is good.
Another one from our canoe trip just because.
Diane and I finally made that sunrise paddle happen a few months after I finished chemo.
Diane's prized canoe on Cedar Lake. This picture made it into the neighborhood newspaper.
Snowshoeing with Diane on Lake of the Isles.
Hanging with Cat Stevens at Becky's old house about eight months after finishing treatment.
Mary with her husband and new grandson, her post cancer joy.
Mary missed her son's white coat ceremony due to treatment but was able to attend graduation.
Becky and I sold our homes and decided to Brady Bunch it a little over two years after we met. We're still unboxing.
MARK MYHRA
1961- 2021
You were a damned good husband, father, grandfather, colleague, and friend. We still feel your warmth, kindness, and love.