Seventeen years ago, I lost my husband, Rand, to pancreatic cancer. He was diagnosed on my 30th birthday, and just four months later, he was gone. In that short and brutal period, I came to know what it means to watch the love of your life fight to survive. I learned what it feels like to be completely undone — devastated by the diagnosis, worn down by the health care system, and desperate for something, anything, that might help.
I didn’t cook, and I knew that Rand needed more than I could offer him. He needed nourishment that could sustain his fragile body and give him even the smallest boost of strength. A friend told me about the Natural Gourmet Institute in New York City, and through their website, I found a recent graduate who described herself as a health-supportive chef for people living with illness.
By the time Chef Ruth arrived, Rand had already lost more than 25 pounds. But her meals, medically tailored to his needs, changed everything. Her food and care gave him just enough strength to get out of bed and sit beside me at the table. It was there, at our kitchen table, that we were able to be husbands again, not just patient and caregiver. Ruth’s meals didn’t just nourish Rand’s body. They helped ease his pain. They gave us moments of comfort and dignity in a time otherwise defined by fear and grief.
It was in those quiet, tender moments that I witnessed firsthand the power of food. Not just as nourishment, but as medicine. Not just as sustenance, but as love.
In the end, it wasn’t enough to save Rand’s life, but it changed mine forever. Because in the middle of all the heartbreak, those meals gave us something beautiful. They gave us time. They gave us connection. They gave us space to laugh, cry, talk, and just be — even in the face of the unimaginable.
Those meals were our last shared ritual. And those moments are etched in my heart, forever.
Those experiences inspired one of the core pillars of The Palette Fund, the foundation I created to honor Rand’s life and legacy: Food as medicine. They also led me to discover God’s Love We Deliver, a nonsectarian nonprofit that began in 1985 delivering meals to people dying from AIDS and has grown to serve thousands of New Yorkers living with over 200 diagnoses. I knew most people could never afford the kind of care we were able to access, but God’s Love has been closing the gap by delivering the same level of medically tailored nutrition, at no cost, to those who needed it most.
About a year after Rand’s death, I began volunteering in the kitchen at God’s Love We Deliver. What started as a way to honor his memory quickly became a calling. I went on to fund a multi-year nutrition grant, joined the Board of Directors, served five years as Chair, and today, I have the great privilege of leading this extraordinary New York institution as its sixth President & CEO.
Today, as we celebrate our 40th anniversary, God’s Love We Deliver has cooked and home-delivered more than 40 million meals to New Yorkers living with life-altering illnesses. Every meal is customized by our team of registered dietitians to meet each client’s specific medical needs and delivered with dignity, compassion, and care. Our services are always free of charge, and eligibility is based solely on medical need—not income, insurance, Medicaid, SNAP, or any other financial qualification. With the help of nearly 20,000 volunteers each year, we ensure that those living with serious illnesses receive the nutrition they need.
That is the model we’ve built. And we know it works.
Our research proves that medically tailored meals can drastically help improve health outcomes. Our clients experience fewer ER visits, shorter hospital stays, and are more likely to recover at home rather than in long-term care. For people living with cancer, heart disease, diabetes, HIV, or any number of life-altering diagnoses, these meals are not a luxury. They are a lifeline.
Which is why this moment requires our full attention and our collective resolve.
Last month, HR1, the Fiscal Year 2025 Budget Act, was signed into law. It mandates deep cuts to Medicaid, SNAP, and other safety-net programs that millions of Americans rely on to survive. The consequences will be real. More people could lose health coverage. Fewer families may be able to afford nutritious food. And programs like ours will face new funding challenges as demand continues to rise.
This is not just a policy issue. It is a human issue.
At God’s Love We Deliver, we see the face of this every day. Our clients are among the most vulnerable: people living with multiple chronic illnesses, often alone, and often with limited financial resources. They cannot afford to lose coverage. They cannot skip meals. They cannot wait for care. And they should not have to.
As we enter this uncertain policy landscape, we are holding two truths at once: We are deeply concerned about the potential harm these cuts may cause, and we are equally committed to finding common ground and working with all leaders — across all parties — to ensure that no one falls through the cracks.
Because when it comes to feeding people who are seriously ill, there is no room for partisanship. There is only one question: How can we best serve those in need?
The growing recognition that food plays a critical role in health gives us hope — we are ready to be at that table. And we are prepared to bring 40 years of lived experience, client outcomes, and community trust to help shape what comes next.
We know what works. We built the model. And now, we must defend it together. Our supporters have helped us build the strong foundation we stand on today, and we will need them now, more than ever, as we look to the next 40 years of serving our neighbors in need.
For me and many others involved in our mission, this fight is deeply personal. I think about Rand and what we went through together every time I walk through the doors of God’s Love We Deliver. I remember how powerless we felt, and how something as simple as a meal, prepared with care and tailored to his needs, could bring a moment of peace. A moment of relief. A moment of love.
That experience changed the course of my life and drives me every single day.
Yes, we had resources that many of our clients do not. But I still remember the fear, helplessness, and aching wish to ease Rand’s pain. I carry that with me, and it fuels my commitment to this work because no one should face illness alone. Everyone deserves access to the care, nourishment, and dignity that helped us through our darkest days.
At God’s Love We Deliver, we show up. That’s who we are. That’s who we have always been. And that’s exactly who we will continue to be — for every neighbor facing illness, hunger, and the fear of being forgotten.
Love always wins. And no one delivers love better than God’s Love We Deliver.
Please join us: Volunteer, donate, or simply share our mission and services with friends and loved ones.
