Why I Walk — For My Dad

I walk for my dad.

At just 40 years old, my dad had a heart attack. He was far too young, and yet somehow, he survived. For a few years, he was able to continue living his life, working, raising his family, and doing what he loved.

But the damage to his heart was there.

At 50, he suffered a stroke. In an instant, so much of his life changed. He had to retire from a career he absolutely loved as an amazing salesperson. He was never quite the same after that.

But one thing about my dad never changed: he never gave up.

I am incredibly proud of how hard he worked to regain as much of his physical and mental ability as he could. He worked at it every day. He adapted. He fought through the things that became difficult. He found ways to keep going and to keep enjoying the life he had.

And he was fortunate. He survived both the heart attack and the stroke and lived to be 79 years old.

He even played golf almost to the very end.

That means so much to me because golf wasn't just a game for my dad. It was something that gave him joy, independence, and a reason to get outside and keep moving. It was one of the things that allowed him to continue being himself.

But what I am most proud of isn't just how hard my dad fought to recover.

I am proud of the dad and grandfather he became.

He got to watch his children grow up and become parents themselves. He got to be a grampa. And he was a great one. He gave his grandchildren love, laughter, memories, and a piece of himself that will stay with them forever.

My dad taught me what resilience looks like.

He showed me that sometimes life changes in an instant, but that doesn't mean you stop fighting for the life you still have. He showed me that strength isn't always about going back to who you were. Sometimes strength is learning who you can become after everything has changed.

I miss my dad every single day.

I walk in September to honor him. I walk for the years he fought to live. I walk for the family he loved. I walk for the grandchildren who were lucky enough to call him Grampa.

And I walk hoping that, through research, awareness, prevention, and better heart care, another family doesn't have to watch their loved one face what ours did.

For my dad.
For his incredible strength.
For his legacy.
And for all the dads, grandfathers, sons, daughters, and families who deserve more time together.

We miss you every day, Dad.

I walk for you. â¤ï¸