Vision and Purpose

Around 2012, my pastor preached a sermon series on our "God-given purpose". As I sat there, overwhelmed by the demands of life, I thought, “I’m just a mom.” But then, he said something that would forever change the way I saw myself: “You all have a purpose—every one of you, including stay-at-home moms.” That message struck me deeply, and it stuck with me.

For years, I had felt a quiet calling to help others in whatever small ways I could. But in 2012, something shifted within me. I began to see my abilities through a different lens. I decided to take a leap of faith and pursue the calling on my heart: to plan a Buddy Walk for the Down syndrome community, even though I had never attended one myself and didn’t know anyone in South Carolina who could help. I was convinced that if I simply started taking steps forward, the pieces would fall into place—and they did.

From 2012 to 2024, I dedicated myself to serving the Down syndrome community in Myrtle Beach, SC, helping to create events, foster connections, and raise awareness. It was one of the most rewarding chapters of my life. But in 2024, my family made the decision to move back to Pennsylvania after my husband was offered a job with USPS, and I resigned from my role in the local group.

Then, in 2022, I faced an unimaginable loss—the sudden, tragic death of my brother. This story begins in 2001 when my brother and I lost our father to suicide. At just 15, I couldn’t comprehend how someone could feel so overwhelmed by pain that they would take their own life. It shattered my world. My brother, who was my closest ally, never recovered from that trauma. As an adult, he struggled with addiction, and ultimately, his life was cut short when he was fatally shot by police officers after seeking help at a hospital.

While I’ve come to terms with the fact that, in that moment, there was no other possible outcome, I will never accept that the circumstances leading up to that moment couldn’t have been different. I will never stop believing that there was a better way—an earlier intervention, a deeper understanding—that could have prevented that tragedy.

I know the raw, unrelenting pain of loving someone who struggles with mental health challenges. It changes you. It scars you. And even though my heart will never fully heal, it has opened up a new calling: to offer hope to families who are walking a similar, agonizing path.

Since 2023 I've dreamed of launching a nonprofit to support families who have lost loved ones due to officer-involved incidents. And one day, I still may. But for now, I am focusing on building a business—a business rooted in love, kindness, and compassion. I pray that one day, this business will not only help provide a better future for my family but also enable us to give back to those who have been cast aside by society. At the end of the day, we are all someone's child. Even in our darkest moments, the families left behind in the wake of a death due to mental health struggles deserve grace, love, and support.

I am a firm believer that it is not our place to judge anyone, no matter the circumstances. Our only responsibility is to love one another. If we all embraced that, we could change the world.