They rode dirt bikes together. They went fishing and camping. They packed up the car for road trips and chased adventures wherever they could find them.

Once, Heather surprised Colby with a trip to Disneyland for his seventh birthday, keeping their destination secret for nearly the entire drive.

“We were buddies,” she said.

As their family grew, that spirit never really changed. There were camping trips and days on the water, off-road races and vacations, motorcycles and deep-sea fishing. Colby grew into a young man who loved being outside, working full time, spending time with his friends, and staying in motion.

But there was a softer side to him, too.

When a friend lost his dog, Colby gathered photos and made him a huge collage to hang on his wall.

“He’s very caring and sweet,” Heather said.

By the summer of 2024, Colby was 20 years old and building a life of his own.

Then, one morning in August, everything changed.

Heather was getting ready for a work meeting when her husband texted around 6:30 a.m. He and Colby were both on their way to work, and he had noticed traffic beginning to slow. Their family shared their locations, and when he checked the GPS, Colby had stopped moving.

A few minutes later, Heather’s phone rang.

Colby had been in an accident.

Her husband had reached the scene, where first responders were already caring for him. Colby had sustained a severe traumatic brain injury, beginning a journey that would reshape nearly every part of his life — and his family’s.

In the weeks and months that followed, the young man who had spent his life riding, fishing, working, traveling, and exploring suddenly needed help with nearly every part of daily life.

Today, Colby cannot walk, talk, eat, or drink independently. He relies on specialized equipment and around-the-clock support, and his family has learned to communicate with him in new ways. Ask him a yes-or-no question, and Colby can answer with his eyes. He can let them know when he is uncomfortable. And slowly, Heather continues to notice what she calls “micro improvements.”

But for Heather, there is another layer to Colby’s story.

For 10 years, she worked as a flight nurse, caring for critically ill and injured patients during air medical transport. Her husband also worked as a flight medic.

Trauma was not unfamiliar to her. She understood the medical system. She knew what serious injuries could mean for a patient and the people who loved them.

She just never imagined she would experience it from this side.

After Colby’s injury, Heather stopped flying and became his full-time caregiver.

The clinical knowledge she once used to care for strangers became one of her greatest tools for caring for her son. She knows what changes to watch for. She understands how to navigate equipment and medical care. And perhaps most importantly, she knows how to advocate fiercely for him.

But no amount of medical experience could teach her how to be both nurse and mom.

There are moments when Heather can draw on a decade of training and experience. And there are moments when she is simply a mother who misses her son’s laugh.

Still, the relationship at the center of Colby’s life remains.

Heather talks to him like she always has. His family makes sure he is greeted, spoken to, and included. They pay attention to what makes him comfortable and what seems to bring him joy.

And increasingly, they are asking a familiar question for their boy: How do we get Colby back outside?

The answer isn’t simple.

A standard wheelchair can turn sand, water, trails, and uneven terrain into barriers. Even many adaptive beach chairs aren’t built for someone with Colby’s needs. His head and body require proper support, and because he cannot reposition himself, he needs the ability to recline and relieve pressure safely.

His family learned that firsthand during a trial trip to the beach.

They managed to get Colby down to the water, but the chair they used was too small and offered too little support. Still, Heather saw something important.

Colby seemed to enjoy being there.

Outside. In the breeze. Near the water.

It looked a little like the life they had always shared.

So Heather kept searching and found an all-terrain beach wheelchair designed to provide the positioning and support Colby needs while allowing him to safely navigate sand and water.

At nearly $10,000, though, the chair was more than the family could take on alone.

Then Heather found Chive Charities and a community of supporters ready to help get Colby back outside.

With a $9,800 grant, Chive Charities is funding Colby’s new all-terrain wheelchair — a piece of equipment that can help return something his injury took away: access.

For Heather, this isn’t simply about getting Colby from one place to another. It’s about making sure he knows he is still part of this family.

“I think it’s super important because a lot of things he’s left out of,” she said. “Him feeling like he’s still part of the family is important.”

Heather knows their adventures will look different now.

There will be more planning. More equipment. More consideration for what Colby’s body needs. The road trips may be harder, and the destinations may have to change.

But this mother and son have been finding their way into the world together since Colby was little, and they’re certainly not stopping now.

For Heather, the hope for her son’s future is both enormous and beautifully simple.

She wants him to be comfortable.

She wants him to be included.

She wants him to be happy.

For most of Colby’s life, wherever the adventure led, he and his mom found their way there together. They were a team then, and nearly two years after everything changed, they still are.

Now, with the right set of wheels beneath him, Heather can get her adventure buddy back to the water and remind him that no matter how much life has changed, he still belongs right in the middle of it.

Donate today to help Chive Charities give more families like Colby’s the equipment, access, and possibilities they need to keep moving forward — together. DONATE HERE.