love found a way.

the fire.

My late husband, Ricardo, was originally from East Los Angeles. He served as a Los Angeles Fire Department firefighter in Hollywood, at Station 33.

In 2002, he suffered severe burns in a structure fire. Doctors gave him only one year to live.

I met Ric seven years later.

By then, he had endured years of physical and emotional challenges. The burns had left extensive scarring across much of his body, especially his legs and back. Although time had passed, the discomfort remained. His skin was often dry, irritated, and sensitive, and despite trying countless creams and lotions over the years, he found little relief.

Like so many people searching for answers, Ric was met with products that promised everything—softer skin, less redness, better comfort—but delivered very little. He grew frustrated and discouraged. Even everyday moments became difficult. Strangers would stare or ask questions about his scars, making him self-conscious about wearing shorts or feeling comfortable in his own skin.

an act of love.

As his wife, it broke my heart to watch him struggle.

I saw the discomfort. I saw the frustration. I saw the blood stains left behind on clothing and bedsheets from skin that was constantly dry and compromised. Most of all, I saw someone who deserved to feel confident and comfortable again.

So I set out to create something for him.

What began in our home was never intended to become a business. It was simply an act of love—a determination to create a rich, nourishing cream that would help support and comfort his skin when nothing else seemed to.

comfortable in his own skin.

Ric began using what would eventually become beabutter every day.

Over time, his skin felt softer and more hydrated than it had in years, and the dryness that had made every day uncomfortable eased. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable in his own skin. He even began wearing shorts in public again with renewed confidence.

then, my own skin.

As I watched the changes in Ric's skin, I began using it myself.

For years, I had struggled with sensitive skin, with dry patches that seemed to appear every winter, no matter what products I tried. As I continued using beabutter, my skin felt softer, smoother, and more balanced. The seasonal dryness I had come to expect each year became a thing of the past.

I also noticed something personal. A small scar beneath my eye had bothered me for years, and somewhere along the way I simply stopped thinking about it. My skin felt nourished and had a healthy, natural glow. Friends started asking what I was doing differently, and for the first time, I realized that what I had created for Ric might be able to help others, too.

a family ritual.

Then came one of life's greatest blessings—our daughter.

As our family grew, beabutter grew with us. What had started as an act of love for Ric became part of our everyday family rituals. From softening dry winter skin to caring for delicate skin, it became a product we trusted enough to use on the people we loved most.

Watching beabutter become part of our family's daily life gave it an even deeper meaning. It was no longer just something I had created for my husband—it had become a symbol of care, comfort, and the belief that the people we love deserve the very best.

Friends and family noticed the difference and began asking for jars of their own. One gift led to another, and before long, the demand grew beyond our friends and family.

That's how beabutter was born.

ric's legacy.

Ric lived another twenty years after the fire. He became beabutter's co-founder, biggest supporter, and most trusted product tester. His resilience, optimism, and determination continue to inspire everything we do.

Today, beabutter is more than a cream. It is a reminder that hope can grow from hardship, that comfort matters, and that everyone deserves to feel good in their own skin.

Ric's legacy lives on in every jar we make—with the hope that it may help someone else find the comfort, confidence, and nourishment they've been searching for.