Being the oldest of seven comes with a unique kind of responsibility. It also comes with a vault full of stories I could use to lovingly embarrass my siblings, especially sister number one. Growing up with a big brother who worked in technology meant there was no such thing as total privacy. I helped my mom keep an eye on them online, occasionally played investigator when needed, and I\u2019ll leave it at this: they know who they are. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I may not have been the perfect big brother, but I have always loved them fiercely. And no matter where life has taken us, they\u2019ve known one thing to be true: if they ever needed me, I would show up. No hesitation. No conditions. That\u2019s just how I was raised, and it\u2019s something life has reinforced in me time and time again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the most profound lessons about showing up came during the single most painful chapter of my life, losing my father to stage four leukemia due to complications from a compromised immune system caused by AIDS. During that time, I learned something that shook me deeply: that nearly 80% of hospice patients will not receive a visit from a friend or family member. That thought further broke my heart. I couldn\u2019t imagine someone nearing the end of their life feeling forgotten or alone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Being present for my father during those final days changed me. I understood then that showing up isn\u2019t just about offering support to someone else, it\u2019s also about what it teaches us about love, humanity, and connection. I instantly made the decision to be that person for others. By volunteering for a local hospice chapter, I learned more than I could ever convey about love and life. There is value in sitting beside someone when words fail. There is meaning in simply being there. It\u2019s one of the most powerful things we can offer to another person, and in many ways, it\u2019s one of the most healing things we can offer ourselves. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another lesson in showing up came through my relationship with my youngest daughter. When she was little, some of my favorite memories were the simplest ones. We\u2019d sit at the table together, cutting coupons, carefully planning our trip to the store. She took it seriously, like it was our own little mission. At just 8 years old, she was able to note a good sale by paying attention to unit prices. I was always impressed by how smart she was and is.\u00a0She was a water baby through and through, competing in swimming, and I spent countless hours at meets, watching her grow stronger, more confident, and more determined with every lap. Even then, she had a strong head and a soft heart. I can\u2019t help but be proud of the woman she has become.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few years ago, I made the\u00a0tough\u00a0decision to move back to Houston, TX,\u00a0before\u00a0ultimately finding\u00a0my way home to Galveston. It was a decision made with hope and intention, but it\u00a0wasn\u2019t\u00a0one she understood at the time. From her perspective, it may have felt like abandonment, something that was never my heart or my plan. The miscommunication led to a period where we\u00a0didn\u2019t\u00a0speak, and that silence was one of the hardest things\u00a0I\u2019ve\u00a0ever experienced.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But in that silence, I learned something invaluable: sometimes showing up starts with listening. Really listening. Not defending, not explaining, not fixing, just listening. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then one day, she reached out because she needed guidance. And in that moment, I felt something I can only describe as deep certainty: she knew. She knew that no matter the distance or the silence, the hurt or the pain, if she truly needed me, I would be there. I would show up. It\u2019s not just something I do, it\u2019s who I am. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Throughout my professional life, I\u2019ve approached challenges the same way. I\u2019ve never walked away when things got hard. If there\u2019s room for me in the foxhole, I\u2019m there. Whether it\u2019s family, friends, colleagues, or community, I believe presence matters most when circumstances are difficult, not easy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I step forward to serve my community, I want the people of District 6 to know this about me: I\u2019m not afraid of hard conversations. I\u2019m not afraid to be present when things feel complicated or uncertain. Leadership, to me, is rooted in showing up consistently, compassionately, and without ego. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because at the end of the day, progress happens when people know they\u2019re not facing challenges alone. Sometimes the most powerful promise a person can make is simply this: I\u2019m here. And I\u2019m not going anywhere.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Next, I\u2019ll talk more about learning to put others before myself.<\/em> <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Being the oldest of seven comes with a unique kind of responsibility. It also comes with a vault full of stories I could use to lovingly embarrass my siblings, especially sister number one. Growing up with a big brother who worked in technology meant there was no such thing as total privacy. I helped my…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-105","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n