Kyle Culver
Forever 34
June 15, 1989 - April 8, 2024
Columbus, Ohio
Kyle was the kind of man who worked hard no matter what, always showing up even when life weighed him down. But where he truly shined was as a father. He cherished the simple moments with his son, Kylan—cuddling, hanging out, or just watching him grow. His face would light up with the purest smile whenever Kylan did something new. “It’s crazy, he’s learning this just from watching us, huh?” he’d say, amazed by his son’s growing curiosity.
He dreamed about the future, especially the day he’d take Kylan mudding. It was something he was so excited to share with his little boy. Now, six months later, Kylan says, “I’m big enough, Dad,” but Kyle won’t be the one to take him. Instead, his mom will carry out Kyle’s dream in his honor.
Kyle faced struggles of his own, battles with his mental health that made things difficult. But despite his challenges, over the last few years, he worked hard to be a better person—for himself and for his kids. He found new purpose as a father, determined not to repeat past mistakes. He held onto two things he wanted more than anything:
To reconnect with his daughter, Kamdyn.
To be the best father he could to Kylan, giving him the life he deserved.
Though he’s no longer here, Kyle’s dedication, love, and efforts didn’t disappear with him. His legacy lives on through his children.
From Kylan's Mom:
Kyle wasn’t perfect. Co-parenting with him wasn’t easy, especially with the mental health battles he was fighting. But in the three years I knew him, I watched him grow in ways I never expected. He was learning to open up, to be vulnerable, and I could see just how much he loved his son. He finally felt like he had a purpose—to be the father he always wanted to be. It breaks my heart that one impulsive decision took all of that away.
I’ll never forget the way his face lit up when Kylan learned something new. Kyle was so proud of him, and he couldn’t wait for the day when Kylan would be old enough to go mudding together. Now, six months later, Kylan tells me, “I’m big enough, Dad.” Instead of Kyle, I’ll be the one taking him, honoring the promise Kyle made.
Kyle also longed to reconnect with his daughter, Kamdyn, who had waited 12 years to meet her father. He had been working so hard for that moment. But life is cruel, and the very night Kamdyn finally learned who her father was—after so many years of not knowing—was the night Kyle died. She never got to hear his voice in person, only through the voicemails saved on my phone.
Kamdyn writes poems about him now. She makes photo collages of the few pictures we have. She asks so many questions about the father she never got the chance to truly know. Her first and last time seeing him was in a casket. But somehow, in that brief moment, she felt his love, as if he were still there, reaching out to her.
The only silver lining in all of this heartbreak is that Kamdyn and Kylan now know they have each other. Though Kyle couldn’t be there for them in life, he gave them something no one can take away—a sibling bond that will last forever.