On a Sunday in January 2024, our family’s world changed without warning.

We almost lost Mark—our dad, our rock, and the heart of our family. Doctors prepared us for the worst. His chances of survival were incredibly slim, and even if he made it, we were told he would likely never speak or regain much function.

A massive hemorrhagic stroke changed everything in an instant.

What followed were months of setbacks and uncertainty. Mark went septic multiple times and battled pneumonia again and again. His breathing became so compromised that he required a tracheotomy and a feeding tube.

He spent months in a coma. When he finally woke up, he experienced “locked-in syndrome”—fully aware, able to see and hear us, but unable to move or speak. When he tried to communicate, the words came out as sounds we couldn’t understand.

Hospice was recommended more than once. We were told he likely wouldn’t survive.

But Mark kept fighting.

Now, at 54 years old, after two and a half years in hospitals and rehabilitation, he has made incredible progress. Despite the lasting effects of the stroke and his ongoing battle with CLL leukemia, he is mentally strong, able to speak, and beginning to regain movement on his paralyzed side.

Two and a half years later, he is finally home—not only because this is the moment we prayed for, but because he wasn’t getting the consistent physical therapy, occupational therapy, and mental support he truly needs and deserves in institutional care. Being home allows us to better advocate for him and create a more supportive environment for his recovery.

While this is a huge step forward, it also comes with new challenges. Mark now requires full-time care. My mom is balancing being his primary caregiver while still working, making them a one-income household. With limited CNA support, much of his care falls on her shoulders.

Before the stroke, Mark lived a full and active life. He loved driving his old truck, kayaking, boating, hiking, and spending time with family. He was the kind of dad who went back to college while working full-time, graduated with straight A’s, and never missed an event.

His passion extended far beyond our family. Early in his career, he worked at the Prospect Park Zoo and developed a deep love for tortoises. That passion eventually took him all the way to Madagascar, where he helped build enclosures and support conservation efforts to protect them from poaching. His kindness and willingness to help others left a lasting impact on everyone he met.

Today, many of those simple freedoms are out of reach. Mark is largely confined to his room.

With weddings, graduations, and milestones ahead for his five children including his eldest daughter’s wedding this July—our hope is that Mark can be present. This requires specialized medical equipment and transportation, which are costly.

We are raising funds specifically for:

• A specialized wheelchair that will safely support Mark’s mobility and medical needs

• A wheelchair-accessible transportation van that insurance does not cover

While medical transportation services do exist, they are extremely costly and typically limited to short, scheduled trips for medical appointments only. They do not allow for flexibility, family time, or the ability to simply leave the house and experience life outside of medical needs. Over time, relying on these services alone is not a sustainable option for our family.

These are essential—not luxuries. They will allow Mark to safely leave the house, attend medical appointments and therapy, and most importantly, give him the chance to attend his daughter’s wedding and reconnect with life beyond four walls.

If you’re able to donate or simply share his story, it truly means more than we can express.

Mark has always been there for us. Now, we are doing everything we can to be there for him.