The new LIFE. identity grew out of something deeply personal. Losing Dawne changed the direction of my life, but it did not erase the life we shared or end my own story. The red thread represents connection across time: love, grief, recovery, people, places, memories and whatever comes next. Same thread. Different horizons.

Losing Dawne was devastating, but the trauma of trying to resuscitate her left another wound entirely. PTSD affected me physically, psychologically, and emotionally. I lost more than 100 pounds, stopped caring for myself, lost hope, questioned my faith and worth, and later suffered a stroke. Peace finally began when I stopped trying to make anyone else fully understand what I had witnessed and allowed one sentence to be enough: I wish I had never seen or experienced that.

Losing Dawne changed the shape of my life. Grief did not follow a schedule, and neither did healing. Over time, and even while dealing with the effects of a stroke, I learned that grieving was not something I needed to defeat. I needed to allow myself to feel it, carry it, and eventually make room for peace beside it.

Walking became an important part of preparing for my L4-L5 TLIF fusion, but after my stroke it was no longer automatic. Persistent left-side weakness, stiffness, visual impairment, and the need to retrain my left leg changed every mile into both physical preparation and neurological practice.

Before my L4-L5 TLIF fusion on August 4, 2026, I made walking a major part of preparing myself physically and mentally for surgery. On many days, I walked eight to ten miles—not because everyone facing spine surgery should do the same, but because it was something I could do, and it became part of how I prepared for what was ahead.