I’ve always been very active and, long before Parkinson’s, I immersed myself in Colorado’s natural playground. Whether it was mountain biking, gravel biking, road biking, hiking, skiing, snowboarding, or yoga, movement has always been a part of my life. In 2021, I had shoulder surgery and, during rehab, I began to notice unusual feelings in my right arm. It felt sluggish, as if it wasn’t recovering properly. I pushed harder, thinking it was part of the healing process, but then came the internal tremor in my arm and foot. A quick Google search led me to Parkinson’s disease, and my initial reaction was, “No way. It can’t be.”
I was officially diagnosed in May 2022. I felt utter devastation, like a death sentence. I had just turned 50, felt great, and was looking forward to the next chapter of my life. I was working out regularly, felt strong, and suddenly, it felt like the future was pulled out from under me. The next 1.5 years were some of the darkest of my life, marked by depression and shock.

At the time, I was (and still am) working full-time in corporate America and navigating life as a dad to my 14-year-old daughter. We were focused on her transition from middle school to high school, dealing with all the unique challenges of adolescence—mean girls, boys, and everything in between.
To make things harder, life piled on more challenges. Just as I began to come to terms with my diagnosis, my mom fell seriously ill. We lost her within weeks to an aggressive form of ovarian cancer. She was my biggest supporter and my daughter’s greatest role model. Not long after, my marriage fell apart in a painful and public way. My wife, who had been battling alcoholism and depression for over a decade, left the family. I became a single dad to my daughter after 21 years of marriage. These were heavy times, but they also became a turning point for me.
Life is full of challenges, but you can always choose your perspective. It’s not about how many times you get knocked down; it’s about how you get back up. My daughter is my strength and my reason for everything. From the moment I held her, my life changed completely.
Our bond is unbreakable, and I’ve always said that being a good dad is the most important measure of success for me. Telling her about my diagnosis was one of the hardest moments of my life. I broke down completely, which probably scared her more than it needed to. But I hope that through everything, she sees resilience, love, and determination in me.
A diagnosis like this changes how you see the world. The things you once thought were important might not matter so much anymore. For me, my focus has always been on family and my daughter. I have tried to live my life with the perspective of someone on their deathbed, making decisions based on what will truly matter in the end.

It’s the little things that count. My favorite times with my daughter are our golf rounds. Golf is such a metaphor for life—how do you respond to a bad shot, a bad hole, or an unexpected challenge? The conversations we have while walking the course are irreplaceable. PD has made golf harder for me, but it’s worth every swing.
We also have a tradition we call “Fun Fridays” with my dad. The three of us—my dad, my daughter, and I—make homemade pizza and watch a movie together. It’s become one of my most cherished rituals.
Today, my message for others living with Parkinson’s is: Never quit. It’s easy to feel like your life is over when you’re first diagnosed, but it’s not. I’ve found inspiration in so many others living with Parkinson’s, and their stories helped me realize that there’s still so much life left to live. This is my first public step into advocacy, and I hope to be a source of encouragement for others in the PD community—especially those newly diagnosed.
I’m just beginning this journey of speaking out, but I want people to know they’re not alone. Life with Parkinson’s is a different kind of life, but it’s still life—and it can still be full of joy, purpose, and meaning.