Joy, the MOA
More smiles. More hope. More life. More moments like these. That's why I write.
Joy is underrated—until your health robs you of the ability to find it in the everyday. So when I ask my myself why I do what I do—it’s these moments. If my words can help people access the care and treatments they need, so they can experience more joy, more often, I’ve succeeded.
Why do you do what you do?
They're my pride and joy.
And the reason my writing connects.
Thirteen years later and still smiling. But my boys didn’t get there by taking tiny, timid steps. No, they took bold and painful leaps. And yes, they fell down, but they always got back up.
And I was there every time, offering a combination of tough love, tender hugs, and pick-me-ups only a father can supply. Together, we navigated the convoluted healthcare system that’s replete with barriers to accessibility—even for those without a disability. And because my boys and I have gone toe-to-toe with all those pain points, I know how to address yours.
I also know the steps required to make bold creative moves can be uneven and painful.
But I’m not afraid, rather, I'm emboldened. Because I know of the the joy they can bring.
I promise to bring the same tough love, passion, purpose, and joy to every project I touch.