How Entrepreneurship Became My Path to Healing
When grief enters our lives, it doesn't ask for permission. It arrives suddenly, sometimes in waves, and other times in a steady stream of loss that tests our resilience in ways we never imagined. This was my reality in 2017 when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, marking the beginning of what would become a profound journey of loss, healing, and ultimately––purpose.
Between 2017 and 2020, life seemed to deliver one devastating blow after another. My older brother Ralph suffered a stroke, leaving him partially paralyzed. I lost my best friend Scott to an accidental fentanyl overdose, my cousin to diabetes, and my former roommate to suicide. The pandemic followed, bringing with it the loss of over a dozen more friends. The weight of these losses manifested physically – I gave up on my love for fitness, developed pre-diabetes, and found myself at a crossroads familiar to many who have experienced profound grief: allow it to consume me or find a way to let it empower me.
The Birth of Purpose
In the depths of this darkness, I found an unexpected path forward. The combination of personal health challenges and an overwhelming desire to help others facing similar struggles led to the creation of Perfy – a low-sugar soda company born from loss but built on love. The name itself carries a deeply personal meaning, echoing back to my childhood when, at just two years old, while my mom was putting on her makeup, I would grab her by the pocket and say, "Hey, ma, you're Perfy."
Honoring Connections That Never Die
What I've learned through this journey is that grief doesn't require us to "move on" – instead, it invites us to move forward while maintaining precious connections to those we've lost. My approach to healing has been to weave my mother's memory into the fabric of my daily life.
Every Saturday, I maintain our routine of visits, now at the cemetery rather than her home. "Her absence is only normal if I allow it to be," I recently told a friend who wished that my 'new normal' would grant me hope and healing. "What's normal is I see her every Saturday still. When she was here physically. And when she's here spiritually."
The sensory experiences that kept us connected in life continue to provide comfort: her perfume and prayer card travel with me in my car, her voice lives on in saved voicemails that I cherish, and the humble foods she cooked for us as kids (I'm the youngest of 8) live on as I try to recreate them as best I can. Even in dreams, where her presence feels most real (and the agony of opening my eyes in excitement only to reprocess her absence destroys me), I've found ways to process and find meaning, using AI tools to help decipher these precious moments. I truly believe there's a way that we can communicate with our dearly departed, but I'll save that for another day. 💜
Transforming Difficult Dates
One of the most challenging aspects of grief is navigating significant dates – diagnoses, losses, birthdays, and holidays. Rather than allowing these dates to become solely markers of loss, I've worked to transform them into opportunities for meaningful connection and remembrance. Each moment becomes a chance to honor not just the loss, but the love that makes that loss so profound.
For example, in May of 2025, my girlfriend of nearly seven years and I are offsetting my mom's painful diagnosis date by getting engaged and turning 5/17/25 into a shared day of love, honor, and memory.
And if I were a betting man, I'd imagine something very special occurs on a December 11th in the next few years.
An Entrepreneurial Response to Grief
Creating Perfy has become more than a business venture – it's a testament to the transformative power of purposeful action in the face of loss. In developing a product that promotes better health choices, I found a way to channel my experience with pre-diabetes and subsequent recovery into something that could help others. The company serves as a living tribute to my mother and friends who I've lost over the years.
A New Understanding of Healing
The intersection of entrepreneurship and grief has taught me that healing doesn't follow a linear path. It's not about reaching a destination where loss no longer affects us, but about finding ways to create meaning from our experiences. Every can of Perfy represents this philosophy – a reminder that from our deepest pain can come purpose, and from our greatest losses can emerge opportunities to help others.
Looking Forward While Honoring the Past
Today, Perfy stands as more than just a beverage company. It's a symbol of resilience, a tribute to loved ones lost, and a reminder that our response to grief can create ripples of positive change in the world. While grief stays with us, building Growthbuster, its clients, and Perfy has helped me turn that pain into purpose.
As each can of Perfy reaches someone's hands, it carries with it a story of love, loss, and the possibility happiness, albeit sometimes fleeting. It's a reminder that while we cannot choose when grief enters our lives, we can choose how we allow it to shape our journey forward.
For those navigating their own path through grief, remember that healing takes many forms. Sometimes it's found in maintaining cherished routines, sometimes in creating something new, and always in allowing ourselves to honor our losses while still moving forward.
My mom (Zora) was here to see Perfy launch, and though she's no longer physically present, her strength, resilience and spirit live on through me. In this way, entrepreneurship hasn't just been a path to healing – it's become a way to ensure that love outlives loss.
I leave you with this quote from a wonderful father who lost his son in 2020 and is dedicated to solving youth suicide:
"But you, my sweet boy, I don't want you to worry about me. I'll be good. Truly. I've learned to live with this grief, like a companion I never wanted but can't deny. So don't let your bright, beautiful soul waste a moment on my sadness. Instead, remember how much joy you brought to this world, how much light and laughter. And know that I will be okay, even when it hurts." - Brad Hunstable (Hayden's Dad, HaydensCorner.org)
