My son is looking at me as I write this. He wiggles around and smiles, then lets out a big yawn. It’s 4:30 in the morning. We got up to give mom a break. It’s okay—we're morning guys. The dogs have been fed, the coffee is hot, and my lemon water is beside me.

I had a dream about his grandpa last night.

Grandpa Ben would’ve loved to hold little Benjamen. I would’ve loved to see it. I wish I could call my dad and tell him all the funny things Benji does—all the little milestones. We would’ve laughed about how Benji makes this scrunched-up face that looks exactly like the one my dad used to make when swallowing pills.

But if I’m dreaming about what could’ve been, I’d want Benji to meet my dad before Parkinson’s.

That disease took so much from him, but it never fully took his spirit. Sometimes, that was the hardest part—his mind stayed sharp while his body failed him. It was heartbreaking, and also something I’m incredibly grateful for. We had my dad, fully him, all the way to the end.

Benji won’t get to meet his grandpa in person, but I’m thankful I have five years of videos and interviews thanks to the documentary Run4Ben. I didn’t realize at the time how important that footage would be, but now I do. It’s made telling this story feel even more meaningful than I ever imagined when I started the doc.

I’m so thankful for this journey.

I have a story to share—about me and my dad. I get to share it with the world, but more importantly, I get to share the story of Grandpa Ben with his grandson, little Ben.