Healing in Real Time: How No Unfinished Business Became a Platinum Sponsor at My 30-Year High School Reunion

When I first started No Unfinished Business, I knew it would be personal. What I didn’t realize was just how many people would need it—and how many hearts it would touch right away.

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to stand before my classmates at our 30-year high school reunion and speak about this new chapter of my life. No Unfinished Business was one of the Platinum Sponsors of the event, and for me, it was more than just a sponsorship—it was a divine opportunity to share something meaningful in a room full of people who helped shape my story.

The reunion itself was electric. Everyone was celebrating, laughing, reminiscing, and reliving old memories. But underneath all the nostalgia, there was something deeper—something very real that connected us all: life, loss, and the stories we carry. Grieving Starts Long Before Goodbye

When I spoke to the room that night, I shared something I had only recently learned through experience:

“You don’t always know you’re grieving until you’re out of it.”

Grief doesn’t start at the funeral. It begins the moment you realize something is wrong with your person—the moment you see the changes, the decline, the loss of recognition, the slow slipping away of who they once were. That’s when the grieving truly begins.

For me, that moment started years before my mother passed away. Watching her health decline with Parkinson’s and dementia was like watching the light dim in slow motion. It was painful, confusing, and at times, unbearable. But it also woke me up to something vital: grief is a sacred teacher. It shows you how much love you have, and how much you don’t want to leave things unsaid.

That’s where No Unfinished Business was born—from the realization that we don’t have to wait until it’s too late to say what needs to be said. The Real Mission: Say It While You Still Can

I created No Unfinished Business to help people do just that—to minimize the regret, pain, and emotional weight that so many of us carry after loss. The goal isn’t to erase grief; it’s to prepare for it consciously.

Our mission is simple:

To help people lean into their values, express what matters most, and reach emotional completion with the ones they love.

That means saying the hard things. Having the uncomfortable conversations. Clearing the air. Offering forgiveness—or asking for it. Because once someone dies, you lose the opportunity to clean up the mess between you.

When you leave something unsaid, it doesn’t disappear—it lingers. It stays inside you as guilt, pain, or longing. No Unfinished Business exists to help you release that energy while you still can—to help you walk away clean. A Double Loss and a Deeper Realization

Seven weeks after my mother passed away, my cousin Jason died by suicide. Losing him cracked my heart open in a way I can’t describe.

It made something crystal clear: this work isn’t optional—it’s urgent.

If you truly want to have no unfinished business with someone, it’s not just about preparing for their death—it’s about how you live and love right now. It’s about saying the things you need to say to everyone who’s still alive.

Tell your friends you love them. Tell your parents you forgive them. Tell your siblings the truth. Tell your kids what they mean to you. Be honest. Be direct. Be vulnerable. Because the moment you walk away from any interaction, you never really know if you’ll get another chance.

That’s not meant to be dark—it’s meant to be liberating. When you live with that kind of honesty, life gets lighter. Relationships deepen. And peace becomes possible. The Power of Sharing the Message

After I spoke at the reunion, something beautiful happened. Before the night was over, at least six or seven people came up to me—some with tears in their eyes—to tell me how much my words had served them.

They shared their stories. Their mothers and fathers were sick. Their siblings were struggling. Their families were facing their own goodbyes. And they said hearing me talk about No Unfinished Business helped them realize they weren’t alone—that someone else had walked through the fire and was standing on the other side, ready to guide others through it too.

It was one of those moments where you realize you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

That night, I wasn’t just promoting a new business. I was offering a pathway to healing—one that begins long before loss and continues long after. A Win for the Night—and for the Soul

Being a Platinum Sponsor wasn’t just about visibility; it was about service. It was about standing in front of people I’ve known most of my life and saying, “This is who I’ve become, and this is how I can serve you.”

To have No Unfinished Business be part of that night was an honor. It felt like my mother’s hand was in it all—guiding me, grounding me, and reminding me why I started this journey in the first place.

My classmates didn’t just hear about a company; they heard about a movement—one rooted in love, honesty, and emotional freedom.

And the result?It brought us even closer together. The laughter, the tears, the hugs—all of it felt richer because we weren’t just celebrating the past; we were acknowledging the present and embracing what’s real. A Night of Purpose and Connection

The reunion reminded me that life is both fleeting and beautiful. One minute we’re in high school dreaming about who we’ll become, and the next we’re adults realizing how precious time really is.

For me, it was more than a night of nostalgia—it was a night of purpose. A chance to blend my professional life with my personal mission. A moment to say, “Here’s what I’ve learned, and here’s how I can help.”

It was also proof that grief doesn’t have to divide people—it can unite them. It can become the bridge that connects us through compassion, empathy, and understanding.

That’s what No Unfinished Business is really about. It’s not just about death—it’s about life. About making peace, finding clarity, and choosing love over avoidance. In Gratitude

As I look back on that night, I’m filled with gratitude—for my classmates, for the conversations that were had, and for the courage to stand up and speak about something so close to my heart.

The 30-year high school reunion was a celebration of friendship, memory, and growth. But for me, it was also a personal awakening. It reminded me that even in the middle of joy, there’s room for healing—and that talking about grief doesn’t dampen the mood; it deepens the connection.

No Unfinished Business helped make that possible. It gave me a platform to serve, to share, and to start conversations that matter.

It wasn’t just a win for the business—it was a win for every person in that room who left thinking about who they might need to call, forgive, or tell “I love you.”

And if even one of those conversations happens, then it was all worth it.