IT STARTED
WITH ONE
MAN.

My grandfather knew who he was by what he could do. My dad was the same. A Marine. Master Sergeant. The standard. The rank.
That's what most men build on. And at some point, for every man, it gets taken away.


I walked away from the path he lined up for me. And for a long time, I didn't create. I proved.


Alzheimer's took everything my dad built his identity on. What was left underneath was someone I hadn't seen before.
What he carried his whole life passed to me in that room.
What I carry now, I'm passing to my son.


This wasn't built from strength. It was built from being emptied. From finally standing on the foundation that was there the whole time.

Black-and-white side-profile portrait of an elderly man wearing glasses, a hat, scarf, and coat.

— Scott Soliz —