There are plenty of things about owning a business that are tedious, challenging, expensive, and—let’s be honest—completely unexpected. Today, I want to talk about the unexpected, because it’s the part that reminds me why I love what I do more than anything.

Our team at New Heights is… unique. Beautifully unique. We each bring our own oddities, strengths, quirks, and challenges. And when one of us is hurting, the whole team feels it. When someone’s family member is struggling, we carry that weight together. That’s not something you can manufacture in a workplace. It’s something that grows when people genuinely care.

Recently, one of our staff members unexpectedly stepped away because her father was hospitalized. Shaun and I visited the hospital a couple of times—not because it was required, not because it was expected, but because we know what it feels like when a loved one is sick. We know how heavy that can be. So we showed up with food, distraction, and presence.

Yesterday brought a different kind of unexpected.

I had just finished a monthly 1:1 check‑in with a team member. When I walked out of the room, I saw Pop sitting quietly in our lobby. I don’t know how long he had been waiting. The moment I saw him, tears welled in my eyes. He didn’t need to come. He didn’t need to go out of his way. Yet there he was—waiting to talk to me.

We spoke for maybe five minutes. Just five. But in that short exchange, I felt something shift. Pop, now in his 70s, shared what he’s learning since his hospital stay. He talked about wanting more 'life' in his life. Wanting to be present for his kids, his grands, and his great‑grands. He thanked Shaun and I for visiting last week. Then he hugged me.

It was simple. It was human. And it was almost too beautiful for words.

In that moment, I realized how deeply blessed I am—not just to run a business, but to lead a community of people who show up for each other in ways that matter. The unexpected isn’t always a challenge. Sometimes it’s a reminder that what we’re building is bigger than work. It’s family. It’s connection. It’s love in action.

And that’s why I love what I do.