It always makes me proud when I can share my grandfather Eddie was a veteran of World War I. Of course, I wasn’t completely aware of the significance of this as a young child in the ’70s when I would visit him at the care center where he lived. But I did know it was an exceptional place that made him feel loved, protected, and cherished. It was his final home and Eddie loved being part of it.

Most of my childhood memories of my grandfather happened in that care center. Because I didn’t drive and was young with no money, I couldn’t take him off campus unsupervised, so we opted to go on long walks and explore the community in great detail, finding cool little places to eat, hang out and talk, and play hide ‘n seek. All the typical things a boy does with his grandpa.

My grandfather was half-blind from the war, but he was very independent. During our time together, I remember the caregivers empowering him when we were playing games, saying things like, “Go Eddie, you got this. Go find your grandson.” (The nurses were also cool and didn’t mind when a kid hid behind the furniture.)

These memories of visiting my grandpa cemented a personal interest in senior living facilities, so I decided to pursue a college degree in architecture. Focusing on long term care for seniors was a natural fit, passion, and attraction for me. I wanted to commit myself to making senior living environments everything that they can and should be and to work with cities, owners, operators, caregivers, and families to create communities that go beyond offering residents just a place to stay but become a home for them that provides support, love, respect, choice, care, independence, dignity, and peace.


Early in my career, my viewpoint on care environments was further shaped by personal experience when my mother was admitted into a nursing home and also when my older brother, Van, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Van checked in and out of care environments. He was relatively young when he was diagnosed with cancer, so, at times, when he got better, he would be discharged from hospice, so he could travel the country.

I cherished the time we shared and will always be thankful that he was able to find a care environment that provided him personal care, but also independence and choices in how he lived: He could decide to eat what he liked, when he was hungry, and to sleep in or stay up late.

These experiences have shaped my desire to design, build, and produce projects that support the cultural shift in long term care from “care focused” to “resident centered.” On a project, I ask myself, “What would the resident like? What would they expect, think, and feel?”

These questions start the early dialogue and then the answers become clearer. I know from firsthand experience that the residents in these environments have more to give and more life to live.

If you’re interested in sharing the story of what ignited your passion for senior living design, contact Executive Editor Anne DiNardo at anne.dinardo@emeraldexpo.com.