Lessons from Dad

2025 was a rough year for my family. In the first half of the year, my father—now 82—was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I think we suspected it for a while, but hearing it out loud, confirmed, still hit hard. The disease also set off a tough chain of events: poor communication about how he felt led to a serious infection that turned into sepsis in May, and later he fell and broke his hip. He fought through two rounds of rehab and recovered. We’re lucky to still have him.

It also changed our family dynamic. When siblings live in different places (one close by, one four hours away in Atlanta, and me two hours away in Nashville), decisions about care, money, and what’s “best” can get complicated fast. I found myself wanting to spend as much time with Dad as I could.

Dad still understands us. He speaks in short phrases. He’s emotional—proud, scared, sometimes depressed. Some days are clearer than others.

But this post isn’t about Alzheimer’s. It’s about my dad—and what he built into me long before any diagnosis.

Dad was born in the rural South in the 1940s. He grew up in a two-room house without indoor plumbing or electricity. He was the second of five kids and worked cotton fields to help his family scrape by—beans and potatoes, and then potatoes and beans. He fixed worn-out shoes by sliding cardboard into the soles so his feet wouldn’t touch the ground.

He didn’t start with much. But he carried himself like a man who was going somewhere.

Here are a few lessons from him that still guide who I am.

Be the best at whatever you do, no matter what you have

Dad didn’t wait on ideal conditions. He worked hard and took pride in doing things well. Even with little to work with, he earned good grades, excelled in sports, and was voted Mr. HHS. Later, he joined the Air Force and rose to Airman First Class before his honorable discharge.

What I learned: effort and attitude aren’t dependent on circumstances. You can come from very little and still decide you’re going to do things the right way—and do them well.

Be a man of integrity

Dad wasn’t overly religious when I was young, but he had a strong sense of right and wrong. He cared about his name. He taught me that your reputation matters—because once you lose it, it’s hard to get back.

Was he perfect? No. He had struggles like a lot of blue-collar men carrying the weight of providing. But he showed me that character is something you build over a lifetime, decision by decision.

Love your family

Dad worked nights for more than 20 years as a chemical operator at Monsanto. He worked overtime and long stretches so we could have stability—food on the table, clothes, a home, and yes, some fun things too. His main goal was simple: make sure his kids had a better start than he did.

And in the end, all three of us earned advanced degrees and found success in our own ways. That didn’t happen by accident.

I’m sure there are fathers who made more money, had easier personalities, or accomplished more on paper than my dad. But no man has shaped me more than he has. The way I work, the way I lead, the way I try to treat people—the best parts of that trace back to him.

He’s still here. The story isn’t finished. And I’m thankful for that.

Love you, Dad. Thank you for everything.