~and his name was Darryl~

The four most beautiful words that I have heard since the saga of "old lefty" came to me over the phone just a while ago when I finally at long last  learned the first name of the man whose death 3 years ago provided the bone material that was transplanted into my very badly busted up left wrist on August 10th of 2011. 


               "His name was Darryl."

I have waited for what seemed to be  forever to learn more about him and today God saw fit that I should know at least bit more about the unknown donor whose gift of life saved mine and countless others .  Darryl was a 45-year old man, a Missourian who one day woke up with chest pains and shortness of breath.  He died in the emergency room of a local hospital but even in his death, Darryl managed to live on.  His family members decided that his death wouldn't be in vain and made the loving decision to donate what they could from his body so that others would have a chance to have a better life.  Little did they know that a 55-year old school teacher who lived in Hutchinson, Kansas would end up needing Darryl's help in the months that would follow. 

This may be the shortest blog post I ever made but for me, it's the most meaningful one.  The message I give you is short and sweet.  It's one from me and from Darryl too :)


"Donate life.  Please don't take your usable body parts with you when you go.  Your heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, corneas, skin, muscle and yes, even bone can be harvested from your body when you die and placed inside the bodies of people who desperately need them.  Donate life.  Each day an average of 20 people die while waiting for available organs for transplant.  Every 10 minutes another name is added to the list of folks who are in big trouble without a transplant.  Donate life."

Autumn of 2013~
Montrose, Colorado

Wisdom~