Fifth grade. My mom sat me down in our “sewing room” and said she had something to tell me, something that would change our lives. My dad had been diagnosed with dementia. I was young and didn’t completely understand, but this topic was not new to me. My grandfather had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's when I was in kindergarten. I watched him decline. I watched him forget simple things like what day it was. I watched him forget his family. I watched him forget how to walk, how to eat and eventually forget how to live. I watched as the life in him drained out of his body, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The whole concept that someone can physically be sitting right in front of you but mentally is completely lost is terrifying. It was honestly one of the hardest things I’ve gone through. And I wasn’t ready for my dad to go through the same thing. As I experienced what this disease could do to not only the person but also their family, it made me think about how the brain, one of the most vital and complex organs, connects to our bodies and what can be done if one of those connections is severed. This then became my goal, to learn more about this subject through studying biomedical engineering and specialize in neuroengineering. In memory of my dad, who passed away in February of 2022, I plan to research and design devices that can enhance communications to and from the brain to improve conditions that once seemed to be untreatable. Unfortunately dementia is still a mystery in many ways, and therefore the cure/prevention of it has not been pinpointed. I believe with the improvements of medicine and technology, so many mysteries and questions like dementia could be answered, giving people the ability to take control of their life and their health. Gaining this education won’t be easy. The major itself involves difficult concepts, but I am prepared to put in the work to achieve my dreams. Throughout high school, I immersed myself in science and the medical field by taking rigorous classes but also by volunteering. While in college, I have joined clubs that align with my interests, and I also became a medical devices intern during this past spring semester. Our goal of this internship was to design a wearable device that could detect opioid overdoses and provide assistance to those overdosing. Although this project doesn’t completely align with my interests, the purpose of it is the same, to give people the chance to take back their lives. After having the opportunity to work on this project, my dreams have become more solidified. I was able to get a glimpse into how engineers are changing the way we think about medicine and health, and I can’t wait to continue to be a part of this movement. I know my future career cannot be guaranteed, but I intend to do the most I can to accomplish my dreams, my dreams of helping people. Watching my grandfather and dad in the last few years of their lives was impactful as they knew their health was declining, but they had no power to stop it. My goal is to give people this power, the power over their health and power over their own lives. And so hopefully one day, it will be my turn to tell others something that will change their lives just like my mom did years ago. Except this time things are different. This time things will change for the better.

I sat in the passenger seat of the car, tears streaming down my face with my earbuds in, looking out the front window as the sun set. My mom sat next to me in the driver's seat as she drove to the funeral home. We had just left the nursing home where my dad passed away. All I could do was replay his death in my head, over and over and over again. I knew he was in a better place, but it didn't make it hurt any less. As I listened to my music, the song by Lauren Alaina came on, “The Other Side.” I heard the lyrics and began crying even more. She sang, “And with his last few breaths, he said, I wish you could see it Don’t you cry for me, cause I’m in God’s glory And I can see His face, it’s amazing I know you have doubts, but I see it right now I promise it’s real, keep praying I’ll be waiting, take your time and go write a story.” I had never heard it before, but it was just what I needed in that moment. It was like my dad was saying his last goodbye, reminding me it would be okay. Like God was reaching out and saying to trust in Him. He would help me get through this. And He did. I was a junior in high school when this all happened. I had grown up in church all my life and was always taught to believe in God. But up until this point, I’m not sure I truly believed in this God that everyone talked about. I believed because that’s what I was told to do. I believed because that was the normal. But I didn’t believe in God because that’s what I truly felt. For a while, I feel like I blamed God for all the faults in my life. My dad was diagnosed with dementia when I was five years old. Why would a good god allow this disease to invade our family? I watched my grandfather battle memory loss for years until he passed when I was in elementary school. He forgot simple things like how to walk, how to eat and he forgot who his family was. I wasn’t ready to watch my dad go through the same thing. My dad didn’t have the same type of dementia as my grandfather, so his condition wasn’t the same as my grandfather’s. But in some ways it was worse. My dad had lost who he was and he knew it. He was angry that he was living with a mind that was failing him, and I was angry that I couldn’t do anything to stop it, feeling like I was failing him, too. I tried praying that his pain would be taken away. Then the time came, when God called him home, ending his pain but also his time in this world. After my dad’s death, it felt I had nowhere to turn but God. And He was there. Every step of the way. I learned who this God is that my family had been preaching to me all those years. I learned believing in God doesn’t mean you’ll have a perfect life, but it means you’ll never be alone. I learned I may not understand why everything happens, but God does. I can’t say my faith is now perfect. But it is growing, and I hope it continues to do so for the rest of my life, until it’s my turn, and “I’m in God’s glory.”