Chris Livezey
August 24, 1990 - December 27, 2025
Christopher Michael Livezey, 35, of Colorado Springs, Colorado, passed away on December 27, 2025. Born on August 24, 1990, in Wichita Falls, Texas, Chris grew up in Texas and Illinois, carrying with him a deep curiosity about the world and a heart far bigger than his towering presence suggested.
He is survived by his loving wife, Cara Livezey; his beloved son, Jaret Ledford; his parents, Deb and Tim Livezey; his brother, Kyle Summers; his brother-in-law, Jaysen Summers; and his three devoted dogs, Clio, Calvin, and Charlie. He also leaves behind countless friends,colleagues, patients, and families whose lives were forever changed by his love.
From childhood, Chris was a dreamer and an adventurer. He spent his early years playing Pokémon, Dungeons and Dragons, Skyrim, and Diablo, and exploring the woods with his brother and friends. He held a lifelong fascination with science, history, and folklore, and possessed an astonishing ability to remember even the smallest details. His imagination was wild and brilliant, and he nurtured it faithfully until his final days, often staying up late creating intricate characters and stories for his Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.
Chris fought more battles in his 35 years than most do in a lifetime. For over two decades, he faced multiple battles with Ewing’s Sarcoma and Acute Myeloid Leukemia with unyielding courage, enduring surgery after surgery and countless rounds of chemotherapy and radiation. Yet instead of allowing illness to harden him, he allowed it to shape him into something extraordinary. Inspired by the care he received, Chris dedicated his life to serving pediatric patients at Children’s Hospital of Illinois and later at Children’s Hospital Colorado. He gave back with a grateful heart, offering his patients not just medical care, but hope. He reminded them to keep fighting, even on their hardest days. He understood their fears in a way few others could, and he met them with gentleness, humor, and unwavering compassion.
To those who knew him, Chris was a gentle giant. With his intense blue eyes and commanding presence, he could appear intimidating at first glance, but underneath was the softest, most protective heart. He was lovingly known as our “Wreck-It Ralph,” fierce in love, loyal beyond measure, and tender in ways that felt almost magical. His hugs were legendary; when Chris embraced you, your soul seemed to quiet. In his arms, everything felt like it would be okay.
Chris was strong in stature and even stronger in spirit. The gym was his sanctuary. It was where he worked through life’s weight as much as he lifted iron, facing his demons head-on and choosing, again and again, to become stronger. Strength was not just something he built; it was something he embodied. He was passionate about being strong. He loved picking up heavy things. The discipline and grit he brought to strongman lifting mirrored the way he faced his illness: determined, resilient, and unwilling to quit.
Chris loved deeply and without reservation. He was an extraordinary father to Jaret, stepping fully and fiercely into that role for seven beautiful years. He was everything Jaret needed, steadfast, proud, encouraging, and endlessly devoted. He would have moved heaven and earth to see him succeed and be happy. Being Jaret’s dad was one of his greatest honors.
He also loved his dogs, Clio, Calvin, and Charlie, with a purity that was sacred. They were a balm to his spirit, and their bond was profound. He worried about leaving them behind and loved them with a devotion that was both tender and fierce.
Chris found joy in good food and shared meals, especially when gathered with dear friends, especially Matt and Rachel. Some of his happiest and most cherished moments were spent cooking together, laughing, or celebrating at Uchi, his favorite tradition. He was most alive in those moments of connection, surrounded by the people he loved and who loved him. For seven years, Chris and Cara built a life filled with travel, adventure, and firsts, seeing the ocean, the mountains, and bison; exploring Texas, Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, and New Mexico; and creating a home rooted in love, imagination, and resilience. It had always been Chris’s dream to live in Colorado, and he found deep peace in the mountains and wide-open spaces. He felt most at home when he could unplug from daily life and simply take in the beauty of the earth. While his health did not always allow him to do everything he wished, they treasured scenic drives, short hikes, and quiet picnics together, soaking in Colorado’s breathtaking landscape and the stillness it brought him. Their life together was beautiful beyond measure.
We are deeply thankful for every person who donated to Chris’s GoFundMe during his final battle with Ewing’s Sarcoma and for all who came to celebrate his life. We have been beyond blessed by the community we have built and are overwhelmed by the love and support that has surrounded us. Your generosity, prayers, presence, and kindness have carried us in ways words cannot fully express.
To know Chris was to be loved by him. He was magnetic, calming, and safe. He fought an unfair battle for more than 20 years and gave it the most noble and valiant effort imaginable.
Rest easy, Chris. May you be at peace among the mountains you loved so deeply, finally free from pain, taking in the deepest breath of fresh mountain air, and wrapped in the stillness that always felt like home. You are deeply loved, fiercely missed, and eternally woven into the souls of those who loved you.
Until the next life, pinky promise.