When Your 11-Year-Old is Your Hero

Earlier this year, Kevin Van Valkenburg wrote a piece about his first round of the year, and how it came to symbolize something more important after his friend Ryan King-White’s daughter Evelyn was diagnosed with cancer. We had a lot of readers reach out after it was published, wanting to pass along their prayers and good thoughts. Today, King-White gives us an update on Evelyn’s condition. 

After being diagnosed with breast cancer, famed author Barbara Ehrenreich once wrote about the “tyranny of cheerfulness,” a situation where patients stricken with a form of the disease are always encouraged to “keep their spirits up” all while facing the abyss. I came to understand what that meant when my younger sister succumbed to cancer five years after diagnosis on Christmas Day 2023 — leaving behind a loving husband, young daughter, and son. 

It is a painful, aching hole that can never be filled. 

As my friend Kevin wrote a few months ago, cancer hit even closer to home this year when my daughter, Evelyn, was diagnosed with Stage 2A Hodgkin Lymphoma on December 23, 2025. 

For a family that celebrates Christmas, it really made Ehrenreich’s proclamation come into sharp relief. How can we be joyful when those days symbolize so much pain and heartache?

Everyone in our lives — doctors, caregivers, community members, family, neighborhood friends we got to know through golf teams, swim clubs — would constantly encourage my wife, Meghan, and me to “keep Evelyn’s spirits up.” They asked us to create a social media page for her, one where we could keep everyone in the loop. It was difficult not to revert to my snarky self and respond with a favorite phrase:  “Two words, one finger.”

If cheerfulness is tyrannical, then Evelyn can best be described as the Dictator of Cheer. She’s extremely outgoing, fearless, and quick to make friends with just about anyone she meets. So, despite our personal preference to deal with Evelyn’s illness in-house, Meghan and I relented. We warmed to the idea that people in our community could offer support. 

And they did. In droves.

If I were to try to list all the individuals who have reached out with extremely kind and thoughtful gifts, messages, and who helped get our older two children to and from school and practice, I would undoubtedly leave someone out. It has been so uplifting for Evelyn and our family to really feel the care from others as she navigated months of chemotherapy and radiation. 

It helped, even as she lost her hair. It helped when she lay in our laps, in excruciating pain, after the white blood cell boosters. It helped as she dealt with nagging headaches from the medications, and as she missed so much time with her friends in the classroom, pool, and on the golf course. 

Evelyn never broke during this period, even when Meghan and I had to leave the room on numerous occasions to sob over the combination of fear and helplessness that a parent in this situation inevitably feels. 

This all changed when Evelyn completed radiation in late April and “rang the bell,” signifying the end of treatment. She cried in Meghan’s arms all the way back to the Ronald McDonald house and then for another hour after they got to their room. 

Even the Dictator of Cheer had a limit.

After treatment, Evelyn returned to the golf course and competed in PGA Junior League with her friend Olivia. She even got to be paired with our captain, her big sister, Meredith, for one week and they posted a contributing score for the team. Her hair may be shorter, but that sweet swing remains as fluid as ever. She now hits the ball farther and her putting is constantly improving. Evelyn has jumped back into the pool and plans to race in one long course meet this summer and return to school. She hopes to graduate from the fifth grade before moving on to Bryn Mawr School for middle and high school. Their golf team is a juggernaut, having won four IAAM Championships in a row. That’s no surprise once you get to know their coach, March Klein, who might be Evelyn’s charismatic match.

Klein also leads programming for our local First Tee Greater Baltimore Chapter, and when she approached us early in Evelyn’s treatment about an opportunity to attend an LPGA event, meet a player, and receive a gift sponsored by the Childhood Cancer Society, we decided to give it a shot. 

Evelyn is the perfect age to do such a thing. She finally possesses the ability to sit through a sporting event and is just now starting to formulate who her “favorites” are. (For instance, she decided this past fall to “get into” college football and Malachi Toney, a.k.a. Baby Jesus, quickly shot to the top of her chart.) 

In preparation for Coach Klein’s plans, we spent the first part of this year making a purposeful effort to watch and follow as much LPGA as we could. Rose Zhang, Lottie Woad, Lydia Ko, and, of course, Nelly Korda all became some of our favorites to follow. Zhang even sent Evelyn a video message of encouragement after she heard about her diagnosis. But over time, it seemed like Evelyn was simply enjoying the skill and ability of all the players. When we were notified that she’d be matched with Celine Boutier for the ShopRite LPGA at Seaview, Evelyn was extremely excited and committed to following her “for all 18 holes” on Sunday.

An hour before she teed off, we met Boutier for the first time. She told Evelyn that she and the rest of our family would be headed to Florida for a Disney Vacation, courtesy of the Childhood Cancer Society, in mid-August. Evelyn dutifully followed Celine all day while she skillfully navigated the difficult course, and cheered every shot as she posted an incredible final round 66 to cap a comeback victory. All our kids joined First Tee on the 18^th green for the awards ceremony and Evelyn was called up to hold the trophy with the champion. 

For a few hours, the pain, heartache, fear, and tyranny of cheerfulness went out the window. 

These are the days when life feels scripted. 

The following morning, Meghan walked into Evelyn’s bedroom to wake her for school. Our daughter groaned, sat up, and said: “Does that day really have to be over?” 

Yes, Evelyn, despite all the joy and magic we experienced, real life rolls on. 

She has a PET scan scheduled at the end of July. Until then, we have golf to play, laps to swim, and a hero to cheer on.