Pediatrician, husband, father, marathoner, follower of Jesus, these are some of the roles that describe me.  But you'll see there is one role I was not prepared for, and it's the hardest role of my life.

For the most part, life was successful, rewarding and on a steady path.  I always knew where I wanted to go, and how to get there - everything fell into place. From the outside it might even have looked "perfect".

Amazing career, incredible marriage, beautiful family, author of 2 books, accomplished marathoner...

I was blessed to marry the right person, and in over 30 years together, we have raised a beautiful family.  My family is the most important highlight of my life. 

I always knew I wanted to be a doctor, and looking back, I feel very blessed for that and to be able to consistently follow my dreams. 

Over the years, I was concerned about the level of stress so many physicians face. As a life coach, I felt called to help and launched "Moving Forward Daily". Not only the title of one of my books, but a website where other physicians could reach out for help and advice. I thought that would be where my career would transition when I retire from being a physician.  I had a clear path for the rest of my life and career.

That is until 2020.

It was then that a role was thrust upon me that there is no word for in the english language; a parent who has lost their child.  The death of our son from suicide, is by far the hardest trial we have had to navigate. 

It changed our family.   It changed me. 
It changed the trajectory of my future and how I want to show up to help others. 

My coaching mission is now to help others to navigate their own setbacks and equip them to run their own mental marathons with endurance. 

My next book will be dedicated to express how the love of God and people sustained me and my family after our son's death by suicide.

You don't have to suffer in silence or run your race alone.  I am here to help you along the way, to encourage and equip you with empathy and endurance.

Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come...