Coraje: What My Dad Gave Me That Still Keeps Me Going

Nothing truly prepares you for the loss of a parent.

You can be running a business, staying disciplined, showing up for the people in your life—and still, when it happens, it shakes everything.

Four months ago, I lost my dad.

Even writing that still feels surreal. The grief came fast and hard. The first few days were full of tears, deep silence, and a kind of loneliness that’s hard to explain.

It was difficult to even go to the gym — something I’ve always done with discipline and focus. But I kept hearing his voice. Even at 47, my dad always wanted to know what I was doing.

“How’s your workout going?”
“How’s business?”

He was always there, checking in, cheering me on, whether I was 7 or 47. That didn’t stop just because I became an adult or a business owner.

And even though he’s gone now, that voice hasn’t faded. In fact, it’s louder than ever.

Because I know exactly what he’d tell me:

“Son, go work out. Keep pushing. Kick ass in business.”

One thing that stuck with me especially: he’d always tell me or message me one word — “Coraje.”
Courage.

No explanation. Just that. A reminder to be strong. To keep going.
It meant everything then.
It means even more now.

This season of life isn’t just about scaling a business or hitting the next milestone. It’s about carrying real weight—emotional, mental, spiritual—and doing it without dropping what matters most.

I’m not raising a family right now, but that doesn’t mean life is light. Grief isn’t the only thing I’m balancing. Like so many of us in this phase, I’m managing a business, relationships, responsibilities, pressure—and now, loss.

We are the generation in the middle:

• Responsible for people who depend on us.

• Showing up for our partners, our teams, our communities.

• Running companies.

• And now, becoming caretakers—or mourners—for our parents.

It’s a heavy shift. Quiet. Constant. Emotional.

And it doesn’t pause life. The team still needs you. The meetings still happen. The goals still matter. But suddenly, you’re carrying all of that and this internal weight that no one else can really see.

I remember what my dad told me when I lost my dog — my first real experience with loss. He said:

“It’s painful now, but someday all you’ll remember is the joy and happiness he brought you.”

Those words have never left me. They’re how I’m learning to carry his memory now, too. Not just with sadness — but with pride. With joy. With gratitude for all the years I got.

Losing my dad still brings me tears. But now, those tears come with perspective.

Because I know what he gave me:

• Discipline.

• Encouragement.

• Work ethic.

• Integrity.

• Love.

• And coraje.

The kind of love that stays with you. The kind that shows up when you need it most — in a quiet moment before a meeting, on a walk, during a workout, or in the middle of a tough day.

That’s the legacy I carry now.

So to anyone else in this same season — juggling life, business, pressure, and grief — I see you. I feel it too.

And I just want to say:
Keep showing up.
Feel it fully.
And never forget who you’re doing this for.