The Day I Decided to Live Again

In March of 2023, my wife Vane and I landed in Canada with nothing but courage, dreams, and the hope of building a remarkable life.

Not long after, I found myself on a muddy job site, working shoulder to shoulder with the man who would become not only my first boss—but also my first friend in this new land: Gerrit “Dutchie” Huls. With him, I learned the language of ICF construction, but more importantly, I learned resilience, discipline, and what it meant to build more than walls: to build myself.

Day after day, job after job, Gerrit and I traveled across Ontario, pouring concrete, raising walls, and pushing through the tough Canadian weather—sun, rain, snow, and everything in between. Some projects lasted weeks, others months—but in every single one, I gave my all. Those years weren’t just about learning construction; they were about laying the foundations of my island of contacts and my vision for a life worth remembering.

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.

I’ll never forget the summer of 2024.

We started what Gerrit loved most: Custom Houses. But this wasn’t just any house—it was a Monster House, a massive build that brought together incredible people: Bryan and Jeff Schuit, their sons, Alex, Izak… a crew that felt more like a reward from life after a rough start to the year.

And then there was Travis, the homeowner. At first, he seemed like any other client. But over time, I noticed something: his mindset. His purpose. His clarity. He wasn’t just building a house; he was building with intention. That spoke to me deeply.

Then, just one day before we poured concrete into the ICF walls, life gave me the biggest gift of all: my son, Oliver, was born. I missed the pour, but I gained a new reason to build. That month off—between late nights, back pain, and holding my newborn—was the beginning of a shift.

Because while I loved construction, my body was telling me otherwise. My back screamed with every slab. My soul, however, lit up every time I captured a site with my phone, with photos and videos. I realized something: I didn’t just want to build structures—I wanted to document the story of building itself.

So one morning, without overthinking, I went online and bought my first DJI drone. And just like that, a new chapter began.

I practiced, I learned, I failed, I tried again. And when I felt ready, I did what every entrepreneur knows is the hardest part: I put myself out there. I printed business cards, knocked on doors, and faced the fear of rejection head-on. Because as I learned, shame doesn’t pay your rent, your debts, or your dreams.

And then it happened.

My first client.

It wasn’t a stranger—it was Travis, the homeowner with vision. He needed someone to document his build, not only for memories but also for his two companies. And I was there at the right moment, with the right passion, to deliver.

That was the day Sky2Site was born.

Not with a business plan, not with investors—just with a drone, a dream, and the courage to start.

Since then, I’ve upgraded my gear, gained more clients, and built a service that does more than capture sites—it transforms them into stories, into proof of excellence, into magnets for future opportunities.

But above all, I’ve built something for myself, my family, and for the vision of the life I came to Canada to create.

Because on that day, when I decided to stop waiting and start flying—that was the day I decided to live again.