: : Upstate New York Transplant Services

UNYTS honors the memory of all the individuals who have left a legacy through organ and tissue donation. All donors and their families are true heroes. We send special thanks to those families who have shared their stories for this site.

Organ and tissue recipients are living proof that transplantation works. Several transplant recipients have documented their experience to help raise awareness about donation. Please click on the links below to read their stories.

If your life has been touched by organ and tissue donation and you would like to submit a testimony, please contact UNYTS' Family Services Counselor Kim Lauta at klauta@unyts.org.

Memorials

Micah H.

Mary Ann H.
Stephen C.
Richard M.
Joseph O.
Andy Z.

Timothy B.

Erik P.

Donor Family Stories
Nicholas R.
Joe G.
Sean O.
Brandon H.
Mark C.
Timothy B.
Mary N.
Andy Z.

John S.

Thomas M.

Mary Ann H.

Living Donor Stories
Diane C.
David C.
Loretta B.
Darlene A.
Tracy W.

Transplant Recipient Stories
Lee D.
Rev. Washington
Danea J.
Sharon & BJ

Kathy

This tribute is for my only daughter. From the moment I named her “Micah” I knew she would be special. She was not only my daughter, but my friend. I truly believe God put it in both of our hearts to spend so much time together during her high school years, because He knew she would be taken from me early in life. She was an artistic girl who loved to write poetry and kept many journals. She also had a pretty voice, one I never grew tired of listening to. She was pretty down-to-earth. When a boyfriend would come over, it was more the norm for her to show up at the door with sweat pants and a hoodie on, her hair tossed up on her head like she just climbed out of bed! Micah could be very opinionated and would be tough about alot of things, but she was also compassionate and cared about people. She was loved greatly by me, her dad, older brother Jeremy, family and friends.

I would like to share with you the events of my daughter’s death. It is a story that shows God’s amazing love even in the heartbreaking circumstances of life. My husband and I were on the cruise of a "lifetime" to Alaska. We left from Seattle on July 3rd. This was our first cruise ever, and we knew no one on board. The first night we met our eight tablemates at dinner. Before the main course was served, one of the tablemates, Mike, asked everyone to hold hands and say a prayer. We didn't have much of a chance to talk to Mike and his wife, Elsie, since they weren't seated next to us. The next night however they sat across from us. We got a chance to talk to them. They do prison ministry in New Mexico. We talked until we were the only ones left in the dining room, so Mike suggested we go to the lobby to continue our conversation. We told Mike and Elsie about our lives, how my husband is searching for a new purpose in his life with his work, and our two children, my son who is 21, and Micah who was 18. We asked them to especially keep our daughter in their prayers because she had just graduated early from high school and moved to a small town in Nebraska where my husband's family lives. She had her own apartment and was trying to figure out what to do next with her life. At that point, Mike told us that they were originally scheduled to go on a Christian cruise, but they felt the Lord leading them to our ship, the Oosterdam. They decided to follow what they were feeling, and just asked God to put them at a table with people who needed them. Then Mike looked at us and said he felt God put them on the Oosterdam for myself and my husband. I was surprised and thought maybe over the course of the week we could figure out with their help what God wanted my husband to do with his life, and they could continue to pray for our daughter and her life, etc. We said goodnight and each went to our staterooms. I fell asleep, and at 1:00 am the phone rang. It was my husband's brother from Nebraska telling us that our beautiful daughter had been in a car accident. They were flying her to the medical center in Scottsbluff and that her heart had already stopped once. We ran down to the main office and started the process of getting off the ship. We were in the middle of Alaska….. we even lost communication with our family for six long hours during the night. We asked the staff to please find Mike and Elsie. They finally found them. When Elsie got to us, she was crying, and just said " NOW I know why the Lord wanted us to be on this ship". They stayed with us and prayed with us and helped us while we tried to get off the ship and back to Nebraska to be with our daughter. We did finally get off the ship at 9 am. A fishing boat came alongside the Oosterdam and we were able to climb down a rope ladder and get to Yakutat, Alaska. We were able to get on an Alaska Airlines jet to Anchorage. While on the plane, we were given a snack tray, and on the tray was a little card from Alaska Airlines with a picture of a sunset and the verse "Give thanks to the Lord for He is good, His love endures forever". I just looked at my husband, knowing God was speaking to us. We finally made it 33 agonizing hours later to my daughter's bedside. They kept her on life support until we got there, so we were able to kiss her and hold her and tell her how much we loved her before she left us to be with her Savior in heaven. We were approached by the hospital to donate her organs, which we agreed to do. Later at her wake, a friend from high school told us that during a unit on organ donation, Micah said she would definitely want to donate if she ever was in that situation. Micah donated to a 63-year old male, a 52-year old male, and a 57-year old female. I keep in contact with the donor office and know that all three are doing well, and we keep them in our prayers. I have written to them, and we have received letters back from the 63-year old man and the 52-year old man. The 63-year old became ill exactly one year ago this past July, one year before Micah's death, and one year ago on the same ship as we were on, the Oosterdam, and in the same place, Alaska. Since the transplant, he is a new man. He is a husband, father, and grandfather, and they are forever grateful for this gift of life. The 52-year old man is also doing wonderfully. He thought he didn't have more than a few months to live when he got the call about Micah's donation. He asked our permission to put "MICAH" on his license plate and told us she will always be "singing" inside of him. We were able to meet him, almost two years after the transplant, and it was a joy to see him face to face and see how well he is doing. I pray that all of Micah's recipients have a saving faith in Jesus so she can meet all of them one day.

Micah was such a huge part of our lives and our hearts are broken. But our faith remains strong. We believe in a God that loved us so much that he sent Mike and Elsie to us so we wouldn't be alone when He took our girl to be with Him! I think of her constantly and I miss her so much, but I also know that God is a great God. He gives eternal life to anyone who will confess they are a sinner and accept His FREE gift of eternal life through the death and resurrection of His son, Jesus! We know the next time we see Micah it will be FOREVER!

Mary Ann was the most positive force in the lives of everyone who knew her. Her life ended on All Saints Day in a tragic car accident. Her spirit lives on in her legacy of love.

Mary Ann was the child of Ann and James V. Walsh. They always spoke of her as exceptionally bright and extremely easy going. Her brother and sister knew her as the gentle soul throughout her childhood and her adult life.

Mary Ann was the wife of Richard, and the beloved mother of Eileen and Christina H. She was the proud Grandmother and in many ways a second mother to Emily.

Mary Ann flourished during her career at Fed-EX. During the 33 years at Fed-Ex she was an endless source of knowledge and a friend to all of her co-workers.

Everyone that knew Mary Ann had a funny anecdote or a quote. She had many quotes and phrases for every occasion. She loved going on long walks at the park. Her trivia knowledge was massive. Most of us knew better than to win at any type of trivia game if she was our opponent. She was an avid reader, she read the great works of literature, and she also read contemporary works. Through her granddaughter Emily, Mary Ann read all of the Harry Potter books and would read them the day they came out.

Mary Ann was a great history buff; she loved the history channel, and the Sci-Fi network. She enjoyed going to the movies and seeing plays.

Most of all she enjoyed the time she spent with Emily. She went to all of Emily's plays, games, concerts and award banquets. She went to every school event that was offered. She was a proud grandmother in every way. She loved to listen to Emily play the violin she thought she was on the fast track to the philharmonic. Emily's says that when she plays she thinks of her grandmother. Emily will remember the gentle grandmother that loved her with everything she had. She would have done anything for her Emily.

She was the best mother in the world she was so proud of Eileen's photography and she was Christina's biggest supporter and her best friend. She raised the bar so high to be gentle compassionate and kind.

She dealt with hardships with faith, enormous strength, patience and humor. When anything happened in her life that was a challenge it was always pivotal to her that she face it with her trademark grace and dignity. She was the most giving person. Generous to fault, she would do for everyone else. She had little interest in things of a material nature. Her favorite thing to do in the world was to give to others. She was a woman of faith that would kneel at her bed-side to say nightly prayers.

Never did she have an unkind word to say. Most would say that was due to the fact that she never lost that inner-child. She was until her last day pure of heart and innocent. For the people who knew Mary Ann we lost an angel that day. However we will never forget the lessons she taught us and how she inspired us in so many ways. We will keep our memories close to our hearts as they are treasures which we will cherish.

Her family will keep her alive in our hearts and in their memories until they meet her again.

On January 30th my son Nicholas was born. From day one he was such a happy child. He had an even temper and warmed even the hardest of hearts. He touched so many lives in different ways. We spent the next three months loving him and our sons so much. Taking advantage of the time we had with our little family. Working and living life not knowing the tragedy that would befall us three months later.

Two days before Mother's Day we were planning a trip to an out-of-state zoo as a family weekend for the upcoming Mother's Day weekend. I had a rare Saturday off and was looking forward to the time with my family. That Friday my husband and I went to a hockey game. We enjoyed a rare night out without the children, leaving them with my mom and dad. We picked them up late that night and went home. The next morning began as usual. Nicky woke up at like 7:00 AM and my husband went to take care of him to give me a few hours of much needed sleep. Later I got up and took a shower. My husband got up and went to look in on the baby. What happened after that will forever be emblazoned on my mind. My husband screaming my name. Finding my child on the floor my husband performing CPR. The fire and policemen coming to my house and the endless questions. Then arriving at the hospital and being told my son was dead.

I was in a state of shock and disbelief. "Adults die." I remember thinking to myself. "Not babies, not my baby." He was healthy the night before--happy playing with his grandma and grandpa, and now he was gone. It was so unfair. I was angry with God for taking him from me. The ride home was the worst. We stopped at my workplace because I needed the photos of him that I had on my desk. While we were gone my mother and his stepmom had removed any reminders of him from the house. They put them in the basement with a tarp over them so later on we could go through his things. Then we began to make calls. I can't remember who the calls were to or what they were about but the one call that I do remember was the one to UNYTS.

The person was very kind and understanding and patiently explained that the only thing that would be able to be donated were his heart valves. It was appropriate because he had such a loving heart. It killed me to think about them cutting his heart but I knew that would be what he would have wanted. "Let me share my love with others." Because that was the kind of baby that he was. He loved and was so sweet and even tempered. We miss him so much every day. But knowing that he was able to help someone else eases that pain. We know a part of him lives on in someone else and he made a difference in this world. Isn't that what we all want to do? Make a difference? He taught me to live for today because tomorrow may never come. He taught us all that you don't have to be an adult to make a difference in this world. We learned a lot from our Nicky and we miss him every day that we are here and he is not. But I pray for the children that received his heart valves, I pray they grow to be strong and healthy and that they can love and be loved like Nicky was.

Even after his death UNYTS was there for us. I remember many times talking to the people there. I wrote letters to the parents of the children that received his heart valves and told them about the exceptional baby they came from. UNYTS made sure that they were delivered. They made his loss more bearable, offering hope where there wasn't any. Thank-you UNYTS.

Nicky has been gone five years. I wouldn't have made it without you. Seeing the donor families and being able to talk to the other parents at the Rose Parade event made this holiday a little more bearable for me. Being with other donor families made me feel less lonely and sad. It helped me confront the feelings that I had pent up for so long and to share them with others and to have others to lean on if only for a short while. It helped me so much. I am eternally grateful.

In memory Timothy B, 1971-1992
Submitted by Tim's mom, Sally B.

My oldest son Tim was 20 years old when he died as a result of injuries sustained in a motor vehicle accident. He was an honor student in his last semester at Erie Community College, and planning to pursue a career in physical therapy at the University of Buffalo. In his spare time Tim was a triathlete, a runner, biker, and a swimmer. Prior to his accident, Tim had talked to us about his desire to become an organ donor. He planned to sign the back of his license on his 21^st birthday.

Consequently, when we were approached by a coordinator from UNYTS, we honored our son’s wishes and said yes to organ donation. Five lives were saved and our family has a beautiful legacy to remember Tim.

The decision to donate has helped us work through our loss, while the recipients were given another chance at life.

Jesus said “ Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Mark 10:14

It was a beautiful evening in July and Erik just finished his dinner and took his plate out to the kitchen and said “ I’m going out to play.” Those were the last words Erik spoke. Erik had a tragic accident while running over to his friends house in our back yard. That night he started his new life with Jesus in Heaven.

Erik was truly a gift from God (and still is). He was full of love and life and was not afraid to express his love for his family and his friends. He was always willing to reach out and help someone that was in need. Erik’s teacher told us a story of when a new student came to their class, he was the first to approach the little girl and told her that she could sit by him and be his friend. He always had a kind word or a “hello” for our neighbors and even complete strangers.

Erik had a true love for nature and wanted to hike, camp, ride his bike, go fishing, or just sit at the dinner table and talk about the outdoors. A week before the accident our family went camping and we went to a class given by the forest rangers about black bears. One of the things they said was, “If you see a black bear while camping, report it to the forest rangers to keep the bears from harassing the campers.” That evening we saw a black bear and Erik was so concerned for the bear. He asked, “Daddy, we don’t need to report the bear do we? He’s not bothering anyone.” He was so worried that something would happen to that bear. Erik later asked “Dad if you could be a wild animal, what would you be?” I told him an Eagle and he said he would love to be a black bear.

Erik always put all of his heart into everything he did. He played his first year of Baseball (t-ball) and at 4 years old and was the youngest on the team. He did not let that deter him, he never gave up and gave it his all. His first hit brought such a smile to his face and he was so excited that he ran right by the pitcher in a straight line to second base. Erik found a way to have fun in everything he did and always had a big smile.

Erik was mature beyond his years and he seemed to know that his time here was going to be short. He tried to live everyday to the fullest. Erik always had something he wanted to do in the evening or on weekends when we were all together. Even when we were preparing to put him to bed for the night he would ask, “Hey mom or dad, what do you want to do today?” He wanted to get the most out of every minute of the day.

Erik is truly a blessing and a gift to us and we now thank God for the five wonderful years we had with Erik and for the love, joy and smiles he brought into our lives. Erik never got to see the biggest gifts that he gave. The first , saving five lives with his organ donations. And second, his family inviting Jesus into our lives and hearts as our Lord and Savior the night that Erik was called home. We cannot wait for our reunion in Heaven with Erik and our eternal life with our Lord God. We are sure Erik is with Jesus now and they are both smiling upon us.

Jesus said “ I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name, welcomes me.” Mat. 18: 2-5

The tragedy we have had to deal with for the past 3 months has been overwhelming. Unbearable sometimes, as we still find it difficult to honestly believe that this has not been just "a bad dream." Sean was such a great kid, always looking to help people, no matter what it was. He made the room light up, always making people laugh.

Sean was killed in an accident in December 2003, just ten days before Christmas. He was sledding down a hill when he was struck by a pickup truck. He had been gone from the house only 22 minutes. He was just being a kid, on a snowy Sunday morning, doing what he loved to do--play in the snow. He loved the outdoors and anything dealing with nature. He loved to go fishing, and loved sports, bike riding, music, and being with his friends.

When Sean died, a big part of a lot of people went with him. He went out of his way sometimes, to do things that were beyond a normal kid to do. He made a friend that was an older lady, with kids just a little bit older than him. But shortly after we moved here, she had a leg amputated. Sean went to her house every day, to make sure she had what she needed, no matter what it was. He did for her what her own kids wouldn't do, but that didn't stop Sean from being himself. For being only 12, there were over 500 people at his funeral, which just amazed me, because we never knew that he had so many friends, as well as lives that he touched. His friends are of all races, ages, male and female....

Sean was our third child of four, and is with his older brother Christopher, whom we lost in 1988 from SIDS. We never had discussed with him about donating, because honestly, I never dreamed I would have to face something like this. But at the time of the accident, I knew in the bottom of my heart that if Sean knew he could help someone even after death, he'd be ok with it. So his dad and I gave the ok for Sean to once again.....help.

We are blessed to know that he has helped several people with his beautiful, big, blue eyes. I have to say "THANK YOU" to the recipients because they are giving my child the chance to live on, through the eyes of others. We had also donated his heart valves, but were devastated to find out that they couldn't be used. I know as his mom, I wanted him to be able to help more, but because of his injuries, it was limited. The gift of eyesight, is something that people take for granted every day! I have, since my son's accident, signed the back of my driver's license, as I now realize the importance of being able to help someone else.

Sean is greatly missed--no more laughs or funny little pranks he pulled, but he does live on, not only in spirit, but through the eyes of those "SPECIAL" people, who needed a miracle, that my son helped them through......

Brandon was born September 04, 1986 and passed away June 29, 2002 at the age of 15.

On October 10, 1994 at the age of 8, my son Brandon signed his organ donor card; he had always liked to help people. Brandon volunteered for the Welland S.P.C.A as he loved animals. He also volunteered for the Welland Historical Museum . Brandon was a very outgoing person who helped anyone who needed help. He was always there when grandma needed his help, and if there was work to be done, Brandon was the first one there to help. If the smaller neighborhood kids needed someone to play with, Brandon would get out his hockey net and let them take shots at him. Brandon loved to play hockey and computer game with his younger brother. They would also race their remote control cars up and down the road after school. Brandon’s love for his family was most important to him. He spent any spare time with his family and his cousins in Fort Erie, where they would swim, fish, and play computer games together. They were inseparable--they did everything together.

Brandon loved sports. He loved the Toronto Maple Leafs and watched every game. Even if he was supposed to be in bed on a school night he was in his room with the TV down low listening to the game. He had to know who won--waiting until the morning wasn’t good enough for Brandon. Brandon played on his school's soccer team as their goalie, and on their basketball team. Brandon also played on our local hockey team for many years, and during the summers Brandon played on Fort Erie’s youth soccer team as their goalie with his cousin.

Then on June 25, 2002 Brandon was hanging out with his cousins in Fort Erie, when at the result of another person's recklessness, he was left brain dead. Being so close to Buffalo he was sent to Children’s Hospital where he lay for four days hooked up to many machines and tubes while they tried everything they could do. Then we had to make the hardest decision of our lives--to take him off life support and let nature take its course, but first we needed UNYTS to be aware of our situation because Brandon would have wanted to help out anyone who needed his help. They were great, and they helped us with everything we needed to know. Being Canadian, we wanted some of Brandon ’s organs to help people in Canada too. Now Brandon has helped people everywhere, something that would have made him very happy.

We have our hope to bridge the distance
to keep sorrow at bay;
But still there was no guarantee
to say it'd be that way.

A life that's lived through faith in God
puts hope in things to come;
No matter whether it be here
or in His mighty kingdom.

A tear to shed for each time we
lose anything we hold dear;
For all we ever wanted was to
keep it always near.

Have faith the sun will rise and shine,
a smile from God above;
And always remember
you are precious and loved.

We weren't put upon this plane
to idle time away;
But to pack away our yesterdays
and in God live for today.
Submitted by Tracy D., Stephen's sister

In Memory of Joe G.
When Joe said his final goodbye to me sixteen days ago in the wee small hours of Saturday, May 1, I realized my life had changed forever. We had been married for forty-five years. I was a girl of sixteen when I met him and fell in love. My life has always been defined by that love and I wondered who I would be without him. "I'll have to re-invent myself," I thought. "How will I do that? How will I fill that huge hole? Can I limp on through the rest of my life alone?" It seemed like an impossible task. "I'll think about it later, after I get some sleep. It may not seem so difficult after I am rested."

I was numb with fatigue. His oncologist admitted Joe to Kenmore Mercy Hospital on Tuesday morning. I slept in my own bed on Tuesday night, leaving him in the capable hands of an exceptional nurse when he assured me he could use the call button and urged me to go home. From Wednesday morning until he finally succeeded in his task of moving on, I had stayed by his side, occasionally dozing in a chair when a son or daughter-in-law gently pushed me away to take over mopping Joe's brow and holding his hand.

When I woke up that first Sunday morning after his death, I found my face wet with tears. "I didn't know people could cry in their sleep," I thought, surprised. With shock, I looked at the clock to see it was nine in the morning! I had slept through the night for the first time in months, a full seven hours. It flashed through my mind that now I was more rested, I should lie there and think about how to deal with this and figure out who I am now without Joe.

But then I heard voices in the kitchen below. "The grandchildren are up," I thought, "I haven't seen them since they arrived from Ohio and they will be worried about me." So I tucked my thoughts away for later and got up to hugs and tears and coffee and conversation and the whirlwind of the next few days of family and friends. I found myself comforting others more than being comforted. And that seemed natural and right, somehow. After all, Joe and I had had lots of time together to talk and prepare for his journey and mourn our loss of each other. Others had not.

The next few days were incredibly busy with people stopping at the house, dropping off pans of lasagna, and flowers and baskets of food. The Ohio kids stayed with me of course, and Joe's brother Paul and Bonnie opted for a hotel. But they arrived too, each morning, staying through the day, as did my sister and the rest of our family. It was much like Christmas with all of us together, the children doing their own things, laughter and teasing and good food and hugs and crying and dirty dishes and drinks and much loving confusion. The only time I was alone was in the shower and when I went to bed. With so much going on and so many decisions to make, there wasn't time to think about my identity dilemma. Each time it entered my mind, some other problem or some other person needing more immediate attention interrupted me.

Hundreds of people came to Charlie Meyer's place to see me and our sons and daughters-in-law and grandchildren. They filed past me, struggling with tears, hugging me, looking for words of consolation. I again found myself comforting them. After all, each one was hurting too, pained by their love for Joe and their own personal relationship with him, or their love for me or another of our family. "I'm okay," I said, over and over, "Please don't worry." And I was.

My girls did everything, from sweeping the floor to planning the Mass, to fielding phone calls. Each night when the house emptied to just me, and Mark's family, my problem flashed through my mind. But I was too tired and too busy with the next day's planning to consider it.

The funeral came and went, a solace for us all, the party afterwards was a wonderful time of stories, and healing laughter, and memories. And then they all left, each to his own home and I was finally alone.

Gratefully, Waif and I settled down in a chair together. She seemed fine. I thought about her for a while as I petted her, realizing that she knew her person was gone. She had been acting oddly for a day or two before Joe went into the hospital, sort of avoiding him, coming to him only when called, not spontaneously. I think his scent was different. During those few days afterwards, she looked for certain family members for attention, turning often to our sons and Joe's brother whose scent was most like his, and even the non-cat people comforted her. Her favorite family members got snuggles and purrs as she comforted them.

"Now I can figure this out," I thought, "this thing about who I am without him." But the problem seemed like a tangled ball of yarn. I pulled at it, looking for where to begin. There didn't seem to be an obvious end or a path to follow. Who I was now seemed to be much the same as before he died, except not so much. All my daily activities were continuing except that they didn't revolve around Joe's increasing needs. Now laundry and groceries revolved around all the things I needed to do to settle financial affairs, figure out how to show my gratitude to all those who had been so helpful, and get my house in order.

During the last two weeks, I have begun to understand that I really am okay. My house comforts me. I take pleasure in the new carpeting and the other changes we made together. The new spring weather and green grass and my tulips and the rabbit on the side lawn this morning make me happy. My plans for an Alaskan cruise to be with close friends who will be married in Juneau excite me. Cooking a gourmet meal for my friends who handled the party and sitting long hours in the gazebo talking together made me realize I was comfortable.

Yesterday, my sister asked me if I had written a Scraps column yet. I said I was thinking about it but didn't know how to talk about Joe's death to my readers. She shot me a glance and said to do it the same way as I did with all my other friends. "After all," she said, "they all think they know you personally, and maybe they do. Just let them know you really are okay."

The puzzle solved itself. The ball of yarn unraveled. I am still me. My life isn't so very different after all; it is just more separate. Joe isn't far. I sense him all the time, just beyond my glance. Waif does too, stopping with a paw in the air, shooting a sharp look behind her before she jumps into his chair. Problems are still solved by thinking, "What would Joe suggest; how would we deal with this together." My responsibilities are minimally more, but less too.

I stopped in the drugstore yesterday for the first time in two weeks, just to say thanks to those who had been so helpful. I missed the staff after being there four or five times a week for months. I got something to eat in the middle of the afternoon when I was hungry, deciding I didn't have to prepare dinner if I didn't want to. The phone is always for me. The toilet seat stays down for the first time in 45 years of living in a house full of men. I sat on the lid in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep because of a fit of giggles. Julie brings the mail to the back door if I forget it for a couple of days, knowing it was always Joe's job to empty the mailbox. Matt helped grandson Dan set up the yard furniture and clean out the gazebo, and is available to trim and rake when I need him, as he has been for a couple of years. My health insurance has gone down and I took one cell phone off the bill. My life continues. I really am okay!

In Memory of Richard M., 1917-2001
My husband grew up during the depression years and never had much as a child. He had a large family. With the help of my father, Richard became a very successful concord grape farmer. He sold his grapes to Welch Grape Juice Company. Richard was a hard working, kind and loving man to everyone. He belonged and held offices in many outside organizations that helped our community. People always spoke kindly of him. He is sadly missed by his family.
Submitted by Edith M., Richard's wife.

In Memory of Joseph O., 1964-1996

An altarboy, a church lector, an Eagle Scout, an athlete, a scholar and an accomplished musician. What else Joe could have attained we'll never know, as his life ended abruptly when he was killed helping an accident victim. Joe loved life--he also loved and believed in people. He died as he had lived--helping someone in need.

Eternal rest grant unto the soul of your servant, Joseph, O Lord. Let your perpetual light shine upon him forever. With your love and your goodness and through your tender mercy, may the soul of Joseph live in your Ressurection, share in your glory and rest in your eternal paradise with Love, Joy, Peace and Happiness forever.
Submitted by Ron O., Joe's father

In Memory of Andy Z., 1995
Now, when we are all together, there is always one missing.
Now, we must look into our hearts to find you, and you are always there.
From those who love you and those you never had the chance to know you.
Mom, Dad, Paul, Virginia, Valerie, Steve, Andrew, Heather and Steven Drew.
Submitted by Louanne Z., Andy's mother

Submitted by Erika F., John's Mom
John was 20 when he was killed in a car accident on January 17, 2005. John and his friend were on their way to go snowboarding, John was wearing his seatbelt, and the driver of the car was not speeding. In other words, they were not doing anything wrong. Because the road was very icy, the driver lost control of the car and slid into oncoming traffic. John was pronounced dead at the scene.

John was full of life. He was always on the go, looking for adventure. He was into extreme sports and was always trying new things. His last craze was snowboarding. He was fearless. He did not believe in letting fear rule a person. He was also a prankster. He loved to get a laugh out of people. He also had a very deep sensitive side, which not a lot of people saw.

John knew that I loved him and worried about him, as all mothers do. He was very respectful of my feelings. He and his friends called me Mrs. John's Mom. I was watching him turn from a sometimes rebellious youth into a responsible young man. I was very proud of the life lessons he was learning and the direction his life was heading.

When I took John to get his learner’s permit, he wanted to know what it meant to be an organ donor. I told him, and John signed up to donate his organs. I always believed in organ donation, and he liked the idea. I remember coming home from the DMV and being amazed that this sometimes cocky kid would actually consider something so serious and life saving. I was really proud of him. He would amaze me like that sometimes. Most of the time he was carefree and happy-go-lucky, but he had a very sweet and soft side that he would let people see every once in a while. John’s organs were donated, and I was able to track down the woman that received John's cornea. We have formed a great friendship and bond, and I know that John lives on in the cornea of Kathy. John will be forever missed and loved. I am grateful and proud to have been his mother and to have been blessed with his life that was just too short.

In memory of Thomas M, 1980 -1997
Submitted by Tom's mom, Janet M.

On a warm summer evening on August 19^th, 1980, my son, Thomas was born into our family, joining an older brother. After the nurse placed Thomas in my arms, I would never know that God would lend him to me for only 16 years, 349 days and 20 hours! Just as I remember the details of his birth, I will never forget the details of his death.

On August 2^nd, 1997, Thomas took his dad’s motorcycle out for a ride on a warm summer night. He never returned. A driver came up from behind, did not see him and hit him. He was thrown 178 feet from the point of impact. After arriving at the hospital, the neurosurgeon informed us that Tom only had a 5% chance of survival due to massive head trauma. After relating this devastating news, the neurosurgeon said, "You may want to consider organ donation." Tom’s dad and I looked at each other and knew that organ donation was a certainty. I remember thinking, "Since death is out of my hands, I do have a choice about life for others." We also based our decision on the fact that Tom loved people and would have done anything for anyone. After Tom was thrown 178 feet, none of his organs sustained injuries. Thus, we were able to donate all of his organs. Organ donation offered me hope in the middle of despair, a purpose in the midst of tragedy, and light in the midst of the darkest night of my life!

At that time, we were unaware that Tom discussed organ donation with friends in Georgia five months earlier. He told them if anything ever happened to him, he wanted to donate his organs so others could live. I would not find that out until six months after his death. Although we had no doubts about our decision, it was confirming to find out later that it was also Tom’s wish. I totally believe that organ donation was a gift from God to me in the midst of the worst nightmare of my life! Our decision saved four lives, enhanced the lives of five others as well as helped others through bone and tissue donation. Organ donation was a fitting way to pay respect to the extraordinary person my son was, and would have been. At that time, I didn’t realize the impact organ donation would have on my personal grief journey. One and a half years after Tom’s death, I had the privilege of meeting my son’s heart, lung, and kidney recipient. They were moments of ecstasy in the midst of my intense grief. Meeting them helped me heal even more. To hear about their struggles helped me realize again, the life-saving impact we had by just saying, "Yes." I am confident that when I see Tom again in Heaven that he’ll be proud to know that his wish was granted.

Pondering the sign, "miracles do happen" near the door of Tom’s heart recipient’s home, I was reminded again, that Tom’s death and subsequent organ donation brought about that miracle! It further brought me peace knowing that through his death, he and others were given a second chance.

Mary Ann H. 11/13/47-11/01/06 – submitted by Christina H.

My mother was everything to me we talked almost every day of my thirty-two years on this earth. She was one of the loves of my life. Never could you find a more caring or gentle soul.

On All Saint's Day 2006 when my mother passed away I was in a state of shock as was my sister Eileen and my daughter Emily. She was the cornerstone of are small family she was our rock. My mom was above reproach she always knew the right thing to say and had the most easygoing demeanor.

The day she passed away due to a tragic car accident I could barely feel anything but pure grief. I was contacted about organ donation and I was unsure due to the fact that it was un-marked on her driver’s license. Immediately I felt the surge that it was the right thing to do, you see my mother was the most giving person in the world. Giving the gift of life to others made sense out of something that otherwise seemed senseless. In the days that passed I had many friends and family confirm that I made the right decision she had conversations with them as she did with me that it was something that she would like to do.

In the days and months since my mothers passing our family has found great solace and relief in knowing that my mom's beautiful gift will help to save or improve the quality of other people lives.

If that day someone had told me that my mother could survive with some type of transplant I would have consented to anything to save her. Unfortunately our family did not have that choice but through my mothers gift we were able to potentially give that choice to another family. Knowing that her legacy will live on in not only in our memories but in her living gifts to others has helped our grieving process immeasurably.

Mark C., 1964-2001
Submitted by Sue C., Mark's wife
In January 2001 my 36-year-old husband Mark passed away from a brain aneurysm. It was the most shocking and devastating experience of my life. I thought we'd have our whole life together and have lots of time to make beautiful memories together that would last a lifetime.

When my husband was taken to the hospital we thought he was having a sugar attack, but the emergency room doctor said it was an aneurysm. We were given two choices--immediate surgery with a possibility he would not pull through it or may need total care the rest of his life; or we could elect not to do surgery and it would be a matter of time before he would pass away. Because Mark was so young we decided to go with the surgery, hoping and praying he'd pull through it.

We stayed and watched over him for four days as he remained hooked up to machines. During those saddest days of my life, I hoped and prayed for a miracle. I felt as if part of me was with him. The loneliness, emptiness and helplessness I felt is unexplainable, but I would not wish anyone to experience this feeling. The next day two neurologists came to us and confirmed that my husband was brain dead. We then were asked to consider organ donation. At first I was totally against the idea, but after discussing it with my family I agreed it was the right thing to do. Mark had a special gift to offer to others, and there are many people who are unable to give the gift of life.

After making the decision to donate I have had several mixed emotions. Did I make the right decision? What would he have wanted? The hard part was that we never discussed the issue. Thinking about the kind of person Mark was: kind, caring, very giving. I thought if he was still here, he'd continue to be the loving person he was. I feel this was a very good choice that we made as a family. Through this experience I have also decided to donate my organs and offer the gift of life.

Tim B., 1971-1992
Submitted by Heather B., Tim's sister
In January 1992, my oldest brother, Tim was 20 years old. An honor student at Erie Community College, a triathlete, and a real "family" kind of guy, he knew just where he was headed in life and what he hoped to accomplish. Tim's family, friends, school, and physical activities meant the world to him. He encouraged others to follow in his lead, pushing those he cared for, as well as himself, to succeed. Unfortunately, the time he had to reach his goals was cut short due to a car accident in the midst of a blinding Western New York snow squall.

There was really a three-day span from the time of the accident to the final declaration of brain death. My entire family, of course, was gathered at the hospital praying for the best possible outcome, but not entirely surprised by what we heard. We were all wrapped up in our own thoughts and emotions after the doctor told us there was no hope, that there was no blood flow to Tim's brain and there never would be again. How could this happen to someone as strong and vibrant as Tim? He couldn't die when he had barely begun to live.

But then we were offered the chance of a lifetime, the opportunity to ensure Tim would, in fact, continue to "live." A coordinator from UNYTS asked my family if we would consider donating Tim's organs so that someone somewhere would be able to share another day with their family. We immediately consented, honoring Tim's wishes and granting him an incredible legacy. Tim had spoken to us and said he wanted to sign his license to become an organ donor when it came up for renewal in March. His uncanny foresight allowed us a glimpse at his wishes and a chance to follow through for him following his death. We were able to donate his heart, lungs, liver and kidneys, enabling a number of people to live fuller, happier lives just as Tim wanted. Little did he know what he was doing when he told us his wishes, long before his accident and subsequent death (or maybe he did know what he was doing when he told us).

Tim is still running races and helping others to reach their goals if there is any possible way. We have learned an invaluable lesson from my extremely wise brother. His selfless act has taught us all how great the need is and how much even one-person can do to help. This is Tim's race and our journey now, one that we face with great pride every day in Tim's honor.

In memory of Mary N.
I would like to write a little something about my mother Mary, who passed away November 23, 2003. Mom was a caregiver ever since I could remember, as well a volunteer for our church and for SABAH (Skating Association for Blind and Handicapped).

There are five children in our family, four boys and myself. Dad was stricken with a puzzling neurological disease at a very young age of 42, very much like Lou Gehrig's disease. Mom reversed the roles; she had to go to work from 8 pm until 1:30 am every night. Dad was unable to feed, bathe, or even move a finger, he was totally dependent on Mom. We used a Hoyer lift to get him in and out of bed. He had severe pain, he suffered terribly, and this went on for 26 years. Mom never complained. Dad was dependent on all of us, but especially Mom. They were childhood sweethearts, grew up next door to each other and married in 1952. They certainly were two people who truly cared for and loved one another.

Then in 1991, Mom and Dad were granted their first grandchild, named after Dad. His name was Alex and he arrived on January 20, 1991. He was born early; he was not due until April, 1992. Unfortunately, Alex had a grade IV bleed and his optic nerve, as well as many parts of his brain were severely damaged. He is totally blind, has asthma, has a shunt in his head, cerebral palsy and cannot speak. We have taken him all over to see if we could restore his sight. That is not possible at this time. My brother Joe got divorced before Alex was one year old. Alex, our angel, was given to Mom to take care of. Now she is working five days a week, taking care of Dad and now we have our angel, Alex to take care of also. He is totally dependent on her too. Mom somehow found time to be a Eucharistic Minister at church, volunteered in the cafeteria at St. Benedict's (our church), and also volunteers for SABAH. She finally retired in 1992. Dad passed away in 1993. Mom also took care of her five other grandchildren, all younger than Alex.

Mom insisted that her organs or whatever possible be donated to UNYTS. She was very adamant about this and I was so pleased to carry out this request for her.

I just felt it was necessary to write this information about my mother. It has been one year since her passing, and we all miss her and think of her and my dad every day. Thank you for allowing me to give some insight on my mom, she was and still is a very remarkable, unique and compassionate person. She is missed by everyone.

Andy Z., 1981-1995
Submitted by Luanne Z., Andy's mother

When my oldest son, Paul, who is a teacher in Western New York, told me some years ago he had signed the back of his driver's license, in order to make sure his organs would be donated in the event of his death, I shuddered, "You did!" I cringed, "How could you do that? I don't even want to think about it."

On August 12, 1995, my youngest child, Andrew, who was 14, was hit by a drunk driver on the street in front of our house. He died two days later, after fighting valiantly to live, despite a broken neck, back, pelvis, leg and a fatal brain injury. During those two days, my family learned more about the workings of a trauma unit in a major hospital that we ever wanted. Although he never regained consciousness, he responded to our touch when we held his hand and talked to him, and we tried desperately to ease his fears and to say what we thought he needed us to say.

When we were informed that he was brain dead, we no longer had to try to tell him what he wanted to know. We had to try to decide what he would want us to know, especially when we were asked if we had thought about donating his organs. Andy had never discussed the subject with us. He was a carefree, happy teenager with plans and dreams for what he thought would be a long life. Death was not a topic he considered. All we had to draw upon when making this crucial decision was what Andy was like, and based on that, we pondered the question, "would he have wanted his organs donated?"

Here's what Andy was like:
When he was hit, he was riding his all-terrain cycle to our land across the street to take care of Max, his horse. He didn't ride Max, he just cared for him, fed him, watered him and taught him how to put his big head under Andy's arm for a hug. Max is an old horse, and we gave him a home where he could spend his last years. That was Andy's idea, and that's why he didn't ride him. He just wanted Max to be happy in his old age.

It was also his idea that we buy a turkey every Christmas and he came with me to donate them to the local soup kitchen, "because I really care about those people, Mom," he said.

We didn't realize until later, when we looked at the ATC and noticed Andy was carrying a basket, that he was also going to pick daisies for me when he was hit. He and his father had seen a field of wild daisies earlier that day while riding through the family farm, and he told his father that I loved daisies and that he was coming back later to get some for me.

Andy was comical, he would do anything to make people laugh, and he took special pains never to hurt anyone. A teacher recalls that he wrote the words "I love Math" on the board everyday, and repeated those words to her as he left class. She learned soon that he did the same thing in all his classes, to the delight of his classmates.

"Let me help you, Grandma, I'll do that," were his last words to his grandmother, when he found her washing windows the day he was hit. When his father was recovering from a fractured spine some years ago, Andy fulfilled the promise he made to him while his dad was still in the hospital, "I'll be your back, I'll do everything for you." He made time to play football and baseball with his youngest cousin, who was only nine, because, he said, "I know what it's like to be the youngest and no one wants to play with you." He told me he was more of a counselor than his father, who is a high school guidance counselor because, "Everyone at school tells me all their problems. I'm like Ann Landers."

Andy was kind and compassionate and helpful. He was a peacemaker and he wanted, more than anything, for people to be happy. With that in mind, we made the decision to donate Andy's organs. It turned out to be the easiest decision we have had to make in all this nightmare of losing Andy. Because he was a big boy, already 5 feet 9 inches tall and over 200 pounds, all of his organs went to adults. They were received by three fathers of children, one a widower with three teenagers, and a woman who had been ill for five years, a grandmother in Buffalo and a 15-year-old boy. Before we gave permission, I asked Andy's cousin, Pat, who was like a brother to my son, if he thought Andy would have wanted his organs donated. He said yes, and based on what Andy was like when he was alive, I have to agree with him.

I hope no one reading this ever has to face the agony my family has experienced, but it might be a good idea to take a minute to discuss such things. If the worst happens, and you are one day asked about organ donation, remember Andy, and think about what your loved one was like in life. My beautiful son is gone forever, but his heart is still beating, and because of him, several others have a second chance at life.

Lee D., Liver Transplant Recipient, 1988
Organ Transplantation: Paying It Forward
Twelve years ago, a twenty-two year old man lost his life in an automobile accident. Two months ago, a man meets his thirty-year old biological son for the first time. One month later he meets the wife and daughters of the donor who saved his life twelve years ago.

I have been greatly blessed by several extraordinarily miraculous events. A liver transplant saved my life which enabled me to continue, and most recently complete, a fifteen year search for my son who was given up for adoption thirty years ago. Then, after twelve years of anonymous correspondence, I met my donor's wife and daughters. Miracles really do happen, and dreams do come true.

Two weeks before meeting my donor family, I had the pleasure, like so many others, to see an inspiring movie called, Pay It Forward. On the surface this film seemed to deliver a fairly simple message, but upon further reflection, one realizes that this simple story presents a profoundly moving and thought-provoking concept which goes so much deeper. I instantly thought about my donor family who I was about to meet for the first time. When I left the theatre, I kept thinking about the overriding message which suggested that when someone has done a good deed for you, instead of paying that person back, it's far more meaningful to pay it forward. In other words, extend your kindness to someone else who in turn will acknowledge your kindness by helping others. That way one simple gesture will set off an eternal chain of giving.

Like so many other transplant recipients, I have wrestled with how I could ever show my gratitude to my donor and his family. How could I pay back for all I received? For the past twelve years I have devoted by time to demonstrate in a multitude of ways how grateful I am to my donor family. Throughout the years I sent numerous letters and cards expressing my appreciation. I've talked to countless people about the importance of organ donation, all in tribute to my donor and his family. I conscientiously maintain a healthy lifestyle and thank God for them daily. Yet, I have always felt this was not enough.

As I now reflect back on all the life altering experiences I've had since my transplant, meeting my son and donor family for the first time, I now clearly comprehend the message from Pay It Forward. I can never hope to recover the thirty years lost not being a father to my son. I can never find a way to make up for my donor family's loss and repay them for their selfless act of making my second chance at life possible. For me, and all my fellow transplant recipients, paying it forward is a way of ensuring that this chain of giving to others will continue beyond the span of our lives.

In rural America a white family donates their loved one's liver to a stranger, an urban black man...Love and compassion go on...A new beginning is made possible for a father and son...Love and compassion go on...Organ donation transcends the artificial boundaries of race, religion and nationality we often impose on each other.

We learn many valuable lessons from life's everyday experiences. The life and love of a donor lives inside every transplant recipient. My hope is that transplant recipients will recognize the love and compassion given, and in honor of their donor and their family, they will pay it forward. Love and compassion go on and on...

Reverend Washington, Liver Transplant Recipient
In 1995 I was forced to step away from my involvement in the community and my job as an emergency medical technician as a result of a debilitating illness that destroyed my liver.

As you can imagine, this was a very difficult time for my loved ones. During this time, I received an assurance from the Lord that "it was already done." My life verse is, "But my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:9

I received a generous donation from an individual and this person's family and underwent an organ transplant. I have now regained my health and I am once again able to be active in the community. In 1998 I became Senior Pastor of the Church of God Tabernacle, and this year I took over the helm of our local civil rights/human rights organization, The Southern Christian Leadership Conference.

Danea J., Kidney Recipient

When I was born my parents were told that I had hypoplastic kidneys. This meant that my kidneys would not grow with my body and one day I would outgrow them. The doctors also told them that I would need a kidney transplant when I was older.

When I was 11 years old I became increasingly sick, and had to be put on dialysis. About a year after that I was called and told that there was a kidney for me. That night was really difficult for me, because the decision I was about to make would change my life forever. I finally called the doctors back and told them that I would take the kidney. The reason I wasn't sure that I wanted it was because my health was so good at the time that I didn't want to take the chance of being sick again. I knew it would end up better though, so that is why I went for it.

After the surgery I felt so helpless. I still felt sick, even more than before. I was really mad that I had gotten the transplant. I felt like all the side affects were ruining my life. I just wanted things to be back to the way they were before I had my transplant. Then a while after the transplant I started to realize why the transplant was so wonderful. It was like I was given a new life. I had a new beginning and I was free from pain and sickness. For me to have gotten my kidney transplant was the best decision of my life. I am so much healthier and happier now. I feel strong and I can do a lot more than ever before.

It has been a little over five years since my transplant and I have not had one rejection episode. My life is so much more normal then I ever thought my life could be. I really don't have any restrictions like I did while I was on dialysis. If anyone asked me what my opinion is I would 100% tell them to get a transplant. It is really hard at first, but you will soon realize how wonderful it is and how much better you feel. All the pain and problems that you go through before you have a transplant are all forgotten after you are give this new gift of life. I will be going to college in the fall and without my transplant I would not have been able to go off to college as far as I am. This decision was the most important decision of my life and I have no regrets from it. I hope that this will help you to know that there are other people who are going through the same things as you and it will be okay. Things get better, and your transplant is only the beginning of a whole new life.

Sharon & BJ: The story of the Little Kidney who could.
Once upon a time, there was a damsel in distress. She needed a new kidney. Alas, she looked and looked, but found no kidney donor. The doctors all said, "Sharon without a new kidney, you will be ill much of the time." Needing to talk to someone, she called BJ in Arizona to relay her woes. Alas, BJ is a very special lady. Not only would she give someone the shirt off her back, she would give the kidney out of her body to the sister she loves. "I will donate a healthy kidney to you, my dear sister," BJ exclaimed. She continued, "If the kidney fits∑wear it in excellent health."

After months of tests, reading books, watching videos, and vampires taking gallons of blood, the moment of truth had arrived. The doctor said, "BJ pack your bags∑you've won an all expense unpaid trip to New York to have a vital part of your body removed." BJ firmly said to him, "No, doctor you are wrong, my expenses are paid many times over in a benefit to be able to share my vital organs with my sister. You see, what could possibly be more valuable or rewarding than being able to save my sister's life? And, why should I not share an organ in me that God was so gracious in giving me two? As you can see, I have won."

BJ hugged her family and headed for New York with a smile in her heart. The day of surgery was cool, sunny and crisp that October 1996 day. Both BJ and Sharon, along with family prayed together that the kidney Sharon was about to receive would bring new life for her. All the tests said it would∑

The hours crept by while family waited in the surgery waiting area for the good news of the girls' journey together, which BJ had entitled, "Sharing with Sharon."

Finally, out from the operating room stepped the surgeon. Perspiring and still masked, he stood in silence facing the girls' family. They could not see his expression. As he slowly untied the mask from his face, a lone tear rolled down his cheek. He said these words∑ "The little kidney who could∑DID!" Everyone lived happily ever after.

Today is one year since my surgery. I just had to write to you today to again thank you for your decision to follow through on John's wishes to donate his corneas. I have his picture in my office by my computer (the one with him giving the "thumb up" while sitting on the couch), and I could cry! What a wonderful young man he was and so thoughtful to think of others at his young age! You raised a wonderful person and I know you're so proud of him; I'm just so lucky to have a part of him with me helping give me a better life and so thankful for him making my sight so much brighter and better!

I just needed you to know today that I am so happy you and Kenny had the
incredible courage to follow through on the donation at the worst time in
your life! You both are absolutely amazing!!
May God Bless John and give him my sincerest gratitude for what he chose
to do!!

Love, Kathy

Diane C., Kidney Donor
On February 28, 2003 I participated in a kidney transplant with my younger brother at Buffalo General Hospital. I would like people to know how easy this was for me to do. Clifford has been a diabetic for many years, since he was in his early 20s. He is now 49. We had several conversations over the year before the transplant about the possibility of his needing one and weather I would be willing to participate. I had always told him yes. Then of course when he called and said now is the time, my sister and I had a lengthy conversation as to which of us would be the better candidate. For a variety of reasons, we decided I would be tested first.

I did have a difficult time getting information on being a living donor. But once the testing was started, which was a simple blood test, the process was so easy. I was in the hospital for 3 days, recovered at home for 4 weeks and then back to my normal life, which includes workingout and running. My life was pretty much not altered by the donation, but his life was changed dramatically. He does not vomit every morning any more and does nothave yellowskin. He is alive to see his first grandson be born which he was afraid he would never see.

The support I received from my family, friends and co-workers was overwhelming. This is certainly one of my best life experiences, second only to giving birth to my children. I would encourage anyone that might be asked by a loved one to give them the gift of life to seriously consider what a beautiful opportunity you have been given. I feel very blessed that I was able to do this formy brother. Once he asked me, "If you knew then what you know now, would you still do it?" My answer was "In a heartbeat."

Loretta B., Kidney Donor
As a result of diabetes, my brother developed kidney failure and was forced to undergo dialysis three times a week. This procedure was very exhausting and had many negative effects on his body. Eventually he was placed on the waiting list for kidney transplant.

After a family consultation, each of his siblings volunteered to donate their kidney. As a group we weighed all the circumstances and decided that I would be the first to undergo testing to determine eligibility and compatibility.

Fortunately, I was able to give one of my kidneys to my brother. This was indeed a team effort that involved the love and support of our entire family. We all worked together to improve the quality of life of our brother, son, husband, father, nephew, and cousin. To God be all the glory for what He has done.

Darlene A., Kidney Donor
In 1991 at the age of 50, my brother was told that his kidneys were only functioning 20%. The doctor told him that they could completely shut down tomorrow or maybe last 6 months to a year. There was no way to know exactly when it would take place but it was definitely going to happen. My brother was put on a strict diet and decreased fluid intake. Hypertension (high blood pressure) was the cause of the damage to my brother's kidneys. He rarely went to a doctor and never had regular checkups. He had been told on several occasions that his blood pressure was high, but he never followed up on it. Now it was too late--his kidneys were failing. The damage that was done was irreversible.

Three months later he had total kidney failure. He had been given three choices: 1) peritoneal dialysis that he could do at home. 2) hemodialysis that is done in a hospital or dialysis center or 3) a kidney transplant. I approached my brother at that time and offered to donate one of my kidneys to him. He flatly refused because he was more concerned over me, his "baby" sister. He chose peritoneal dialysis to do at home. He was scheduled for surgery to have a port or tube placed permanently into his abdomen where he would hook up the "cleaning fluids" to go into his stomach and draw out all the body waste and toxins that were collected by the blood as it circulates through the body. After several hours, he would drain that fluid out and replace it with new "cleaning fluid." This took approximately one hour to complete. Although peritoneal dialysis is an effective way to clean the blood of toxins, after time it causes deterioration of the stomach lining. As careful as he was he got repeated infections in the lining of his stomach called peritonitis. This infection is very painful and dangerous.

I approached my brother again about a transplant. He finally agreed to do the testing to see if we would be a match. We were an excellent match. I was also required to have a psychological evaluation to make sure that I had not been pressured into this donation. After it was decided that I would be a good candidate to donate a kidney to my brother, I sat down and talked to my kids about it. I explained the whole procedure to them (they were both adults). I admitted there were a few risks involved, as there is in any surgery, but nothing I was concerned about because I was in good health both physically and psychologically. I told them that I would continue to live a normal life with one kidney. This would definitely improve the quality of their Uncle Johnny's life. At that time my daughter Shannon said to me, "I'm so proud of you Mom for doing this for Uncle Johnny, and I hope that someday I can save lives by being an organ donor too."

Our surgery was scheduled for December 9, 1993 at Buffalo General Hospital and went very well. I was home from the hospital in six days. My brother was home for Christmas. He told me at Christmas that it was the best he had felt in years and he didn't realize how sick he had been until now. It was one of the happiest holidays our family ever experienced.

As a living donor, I have no restrictions, other than competing in contact sports or any event that would possibly cause injury to my remaining kidney. I try to eat a well balanced diet and drink at least eight glasses of water a day, but this is something that everyone should do anyway. I have no regrets about donating a kidney to my brother and would do it again without question. It was my "Gift of Love" to my brother.

My mother means so very much to me. Therefore, giving her one of my kidneys is not something I had to think twice about. It all basically started when our family suffered the sudden loss of my older brother's life. This terrible loss devastated my mother causing the beginning stages of my mother's kidney disease. A few years later, my family suffered another devastating loss. My father, the love of my mother's life∑died suddenly. Watching my mother's health deteriorate was very hard for all of us. My mother was then told she would have to start dialysis. This was not something I was willing to watch my mother go through. We all decided, as a family, to be tested for a transplant. I was so happy to learn that I was a perfect match. With the enormous support from my family, friends, and the wonderful woman in my life, the transplant took place. Ironically, the transplant took place on the weekend of Mother's Day 2003, which made the whole process even more special. Everything went very well. My mother has experienced a few bumps since the surgery, but for the most part, she is improving with each day that passes. If I had to do it all over again, I would. My mother is a wonderful human being. She is the glue that keeps our family together. She is laughing again, getting out more, and getting better everyday. This makes me very happy. Again, my mother means so much to me, giving her the gift of life has been an honor.

I was 29-years-old, soon to be 30, with a 9-year-old daughter. I am very active with our local VFW, and in the community. I love to play sports and dance.

In May 2003, Memorial Day weekend, I can remember my mother playing badminton with all the grand kids. After that, things started to go down hill. Margaret, my mom, started to feel sick to her stomach and have a lot of pain. We knew for years that she had bad kidneys, but we never expected them to give out on her.

To my knowledge, she went to the doctors and they told her that her kidneys weren't working correctly. She would have to go on dialysis. She had a shunt put in her arm twice, but they didn't work properly, so she had it put in her neck/chest area. She went for dialysis for a few months--she hated it, and so did we. She was not herself. She was depressed. As soon as I was told that I could be tested to be a donor, I called. Actually, I called even before that. I started my testing and I was a good match for my mom.

Our surgery was December 17^th. Things were a little shaky at first, but everything turned out good in the end. My mom's kidney worked right away for her and is still working well.

During the testing time, I told my boss what was going to happen. He didn't agree. I only asked for my two weeks vacation off to have the surgery. He suggested instead of vacation or disability, that I take unemployment. He said it would help him out financially. Actually, he said either I take the unemployment or he would have to cut my pay. o what would you do?

The two weeks passed and I called my boss, he said that I would have to wait until March to come back to work. I couldn't afford that, so I went online and applied for some jobs and I got a better job. But in the meantime, he cancelled my medical insurance. How heartless can you be? I just had major surgery.

Anyway, my mother is doing really good, and so am I. If you can be a donor for a parent or relative or even someone you don't know, you should do it. You don't know what a life changing gift this is.

Stories & Memorials