My name is Jemus, and I am a single father raising my daughter on my own. I’ve had full custody of her since she was one year old — she’s 11 now. She is my world, my purpose, and the reason I refuse to give up even as my body is breaking down.

There’s a part of my story that most people never knew.

When I was young, I survived extensive heart surgery — an operation so serious that it made me feel like my life had an expiration date. For years, I didn’t believe I’d live long enough to prepare for anything beyond the moment I was in.

Because of that, I grew up believing I wouldn’t live past 25. When you think like that, you don’t plan for a future. You don’t build safety nets. You just try to make it through each day. Some people push themselves to the limit. I couldn’t. I pushed only until the burn in my chest reminded me how fragile I really was.

Now that I’m in my 40s, I can admit I didn’t take full advantage of every opportunity I had — not because I didn’t want better for myself, but because I didn’t think I’d still be here.

Everything changed the day my daughter was born.

Holding her in my arms awakened something in me — vision, purpose, willpower. Suddenly the future mattered. Suddenly I mattered, because she needed me. Every sacrifice I’ve made since then has been for her. And as her mother fought her own battle with addiction, I realized more and more that I might be the only parent she can truly count on.

For most of my adult life, I’ve built my own businesses — roofing, solar, sales, marketing, media creation. And while rebuilding my roofing and solar pipeline, rideshare and delivery work became my supplemental income — just a bridge to keep us stable.

But getting in and out of my car over the years slowly broke my body down.

I’ve reached a point where getting in or out of the car even once hurts — but I kept doing it, because providing for my daughter has always mattered more than my pain.

And every passing year brings more anxiety, because I can feel my body slowing down at the same time my daughter needs me to stay strong.

Eventually, I lost access to rideshare platforms because I sometimes had my daughter with me. I refused to leave her home alone — I’m her only parent. Losing that supplemental income hit us hard. I tried to keep going with DoorDash, but the daily physical strain has made my condition even worse. My mobility is failing, and some days I can barely walk.

I’m almost 50 now. I have decades of skill — sales, marketing, Excel, Canva, PowerPoint, creative work, even app development — but my body cannot keep up with the type of work that once kept us afloat.

This is not me begging.

This is me humbling myself.

I’ve always found a way to survive. I don’t like asking for anything — not from friends, not from strangers, and only occasionally from my mom, who has a life of her own. But right now, I need help to get stable again, rebuild my business in a way that protects my health, and make sure my daughter never feels the consequences of my physical decline.

Your help will allow me to:

• Begin healing physically instead of worsening my condition

• Transition back into sustainable work in roofing/solar and digital creation

• Keep our home stable

• Rebuild a foundation strong enough for both of us

• Give my daughter the life she deserves

• Stay present and healthy as her father — not broken or bedridden

There are people facing worse situations, and I pray that what I’m building will one day help others in similar positions. But today, I’m asking for support so I can keep being the father my daughter needs — not just now, but for many years to come.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for caring.

And thank you for giving me and my daughter a fighting chance.

With gratitude,

Jemus