A New Perspective: Gavino’s Story of Rebuilding What Matters Most

August 14, 2025

For most of his life, Gavino was a man of contradiction. Born the youngest of four in a strong, loving Catholic family, he had everything he needed to build a good life—structure, morals, connection. But like he says with clarity and without blame, “I chose to do things my way.” That decision—born from ego, pain, and sometimes simply survival—pulled him into a 35-year stretch of darkness where relationships broke and trust vanished.

By the time Gavino walked through the doors of Dismas House, the weight he carried wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, generational, and spiritual. He had fractured ties with his children, carried the grief of losing a son to gun violence, and wrestled with the shame of having let so many people down—including himself.

But this time, something was different.

A New Kind of Foundation

At Dismas House, Gavino didn’t just find a roof—he found a reset. What he thought would be another temporary stop became a turning point.

The simplest gestures—someone asking how he was doing, a neighbor offering a smile—felt like lifelines. These small threads of kindness started stitching something together inside him: a sense of worth, dignity, and connection he hadn’t felt in decades.

“I come from a world where it was dog-eat-dog. You didn’t show love, you showed strength. Coming here? It made me feel human again.”

In a place where he expected judgment, he found grace. Where he anticipated distance, he found community. He calls out people like Dwanna, his case manager, who never left his side—even during surgery—and the staff who greeted him, not with suspicion, but with respect.

“They treated me like a man. That changed everything.”

The Long Road to Reconnection

Gavino speaks often about family, both the ones he lost and the ones he’s working to find again. His reconnection with his brother is one of the most powerful parts of his story. One day, Gavino simply said, “I’m sorry.” And something shifted.

“That one word—sorry—it broke something open. Now we talk for hours. We laugh. It’s like we found each other again.”

With his daughters, the journey has been more complicated. Some relationships are strong—others are still in progress, but Gavino hasn’t given up. He understands now that love isn’t about perfection, it’s about consistency. Showing up even when it’s hard. Offering grace when none is returned. Saying I’m here, even when the door remains closed.

A New Kind of Strength

Gavino doesn’t pretend to have it all figured out, but there’s one thing he’s sure of: something is changing within him. He describes it as stepping off the fence—finally deciding to stop running from pain, shame, and fear. Instead, he’s choosing to face it, name it, and move through it.

And that transformation is more than emotional—it’s visible. Gavino lights up when he talks about giving back, about encouragement, about showing others the kindness he’s been shown.

“It’s so simple. A ‘good morning.’ A ‘how are you?’ One word can change someone’s whole day. That’s the kind of person I want to be now.”

The Future Is Personal

Gavino’s vision for his future is simple and profoundly rooted in purpose. He wants to save money, find a place of his own in East Tennessee, and one day open a small Midwestern-style food truck, that reminds fellow Midwesterners of home. “I just want something that brings people together.”

More than that, he wants to give back. Every first Saturday of the month, he plans to host free community events—balloons for kids, hot dogs, hamburgers, laughter. “Single moms, families, anyone. Just come. Let’s build something better, together.” That’s the theme of Gavino’s new life: rebuilding what matters most.

A Living Reflection

What Gavino has found at Dismas House is more than sobriety or stability. He’s found a reflection of the man he was always meant to be—a father who still fights for his children, a brother who chooses love over ego, and a man who knows that his past may shape him, but it doesn’t define him.

“I used to be in the dark. I know that place too well. But I’m not going back. I finally found the light. And this time, I’m staying in it.”

Gavino is proof that it’s never too late to start again. That no matter how far you fall, healing is possible. Reconnection is possible. Love—real, consistent, grace-filled love—is always possible.

All it takes is a willingness to try. And the courage to say: “I’m sorry. I’m still here. And I’m not done yet.”