There's always more to
come notice with me
notice
It started with
For as long as I can remember
I have been fascinated by people
people. Growing up in a small Wisconsin town, I discovered early that I loved helping others feel seen, understood and connected. In high school I tutored newly immigrated Hmong students in reading and communication. What began as a way to help someone else, quietly became the path that shaped my future.
That experience led me to become a speech-language pathologist, but it also planted a question that would guide my career...
Curiosity
Who is the person beyond the diagnosis and and what changes when we focus on what's possible?
For more than three decades that question has shaped my work as a clinician, educator, consultant and lifelong learner.
While many conversations focus on what's been lost, I was drawn to what remained: the person, the relationships, a life to be lived.
What we choose to notice, changes what is
possible
It started with
Like so many families, we didn't know what was ahead.
We only knew that someone we loved was beginning to change - and that continued to love her just as deeply.
At first the changes were subtle. She hesitated more often. Everyday tasks took longer. We tried to prepare dad for what might come, but some realities are simply too painful to imagine until you are living them.
Their story didn't just change my career, it changed how I see the
world
Then it became
Personal
Everything changed when dementia quietly became part of our life story.
As time passed and the years unfolded, I knew what dementia would take, but I didn't know all that it would reveal.
Beneath the diagnosis, was the woman who loved babies, smiled when music played, and found comfort during moments of connection.
So much changed, but not everything. Love was still there and connection was still possible.
Watching each person in our family walk this journey - and watching Dad carry the weight of caregiving - taught me something no textbook ever could.
Observing matters. Preparation matters. Control doesn't disappear - we simply learn to hold it differently, one moment at a time.
What we choose to notice changes how we experience the journey.
The work behind
the work
My education and experience matter - but not for the reasons you might think.
They gave me more than knowledge - they shaped the way I notice, ask questions, solve problems and continue learning.
That journey has taught me that meaningful work rarely begins with having all the answers. It begins with asking better questions, staying curious, and remaining open to what we don't yet know. That's the perspective I bring to every person, every family and every challenge.
My approach is grounded in research, guided by curiosity, and always shaped by the person in front of me.
