In the midst of all the overwhelming stress, anxiety, and difficulties this past month, I have realized the people in my life who have held truthful to the words that they have said to me. I have realized that you have all kept me and my family in your thoughts, even when you’re busy taking care of your own endeavors. I am grateful to have each and every one of you in life, and simply call you my friends.When I found out that my father would be receiving a dual heart and liver transplant, my reaction at first, was instant excitement. He had been on the list at the UPMC, in Pittsburgh, for a little over two years. Since 1992 (and since I can remember), he has been sick in some type of way. Back then, the endless struggle began with cancer, Hodgkin’s disease in particular. I was old enough to know that my dad was sick, but didn’t know circumstances or consequences of treatment (chemotherapy, and radiation). As I grew older, he was able to tell me a bit about what he had gone through. Things like comparing the size of the tumor in his chest to a softball. I also began to grow aware of the consequences of his treatment. All through my elementary and middle school years my dad would become very sick periodically, due to the rigidity of his heart and the scar tissue that enclosed it. I would spend several weeks every year with my mom, aunts, grandparents, while my father fought away a new problem that invaded his body. After some of these situations had occurred and my father’s sickness had digressed, I was aware that this man could overcome any obstacle that stood between him. Looking into the face of death, and refusing to submit himself seemed to be a characteristic that God had instilled in him. Soon I would learn that it was even more than that.In 1998, he suffered a heart attack that left him with pacemaker in his chest and a frightening experience that would make him aware of how sick he actually was. For the next 6 years he would go through those periodic stages of sickness, be given astonishing amounts of medicine, and attend weekly visits with his heart doctor in Columbus. I knew that he was growing increasingly worse throughout my high school days when I saw a 6’2 290 lb. former college football player shrink to boney 180 lb. 40 year old man. I would not realize the true “fight” in him until my senior year when one of the biggest scares of my life occurred.2 football games into my senior season, on a Wednesday, I thought that the head principle of our school came to inform me about how my father was doing after a routine checkup at the Cleveland Clinic. He pulled me out of class to actually notify me that my dad had gone into cardiac arrest, had dual kidney failure, severe liver failure, and was fighting a terrible infection in his blood stream. As I received the information, I was sure that my father was going to die within the next 24 hours, and I began to prepare myself for the worst. As I rode up to the blue-collar town of Cleveland with the rest of my family, God must have been slowly working some type of miracle within my father. It was a horrible sight to see. Him being connected to every life-saving device imaginable made me nauseous and weak. However, I knew that I could not give into the doubt that was at hand. Hard work and determination are characteristics that he expressed, and made sure that they were instilled in both of his sons. As I attended school for the next few days, that is all that I could think about.My dad is one of the biggest supporters of my football career that I have. Having him being unconscious for 2 weeks during the middle of my senior season was nothing easy. I remember walking my mother across the field before our third game on Parents night. I felt the presence of my father with me, even though the emotions on my face probably would show the opposite. Throughout the course of that game I felt as if he was watching me, ready to critique me on what cuts I didn’t make, what tackle I missed, or what ball I didn’t catch properly. That ended up being our first win of a difficult season with a new head coach. A day later, I would have to do the hardest thing that I had ever had to do. Although he was unconscious, my family insisted that I read the article about our first win. Seeing the stoic, unresponsive look on his face made me realize that this act could have been pointless. However, after another big win and breaking a school record for individual points scored, I met my grandfather on the sidelines carrying his cell phone in the rain to have none other than my father’s voice talk to me about football for the first time in two weeks. I had never had such an overwhelming feeling of relief and thankfulness in my entire life. For the next two years, my father was on a heart and liver transplant waiting list. The second hardest thing I ever had to do occurred two weeks ago and I have only told several people about the situation. After my dad had received his transplants on New Years Day, he had been facing complications which he is still fighting as I type this. Although I had seen him for several days after surgery, I felt that it was necessary to take the lonely highway to Pittsburgh to see my father again. This time, he was conscious, his body wasn’t convulsing and he was able to nod or shake his head in response to my questions. I was the only one in the room with him on that Saturday morning because I had to make my trip back to school early that day. My stepmother, aunt, and cousins were still at the hotel. Before I left I held his hand in mine, and told him that I needed to leave and that I loved him. He somehow acquired the strength to lift his hand away from mine and point to the cross that was hanging on the necklace and push it with his rigid finger into my chest. The force exerted wasn’t soft. It actually made me cringe a bit as tears streamed down my face. He then proceeded to point to my heart and moved his lips to say something. I have never not been able to understand someone, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. It still eats at me inside as I think of it today. Talking to a conscious person, who just happened to be my father, and having them not be able to say anything back to you is the hardest thing that I have ever had to do. When I departed the room, I left him a plaque that he had given me at graduation. It reads: “All things are possible to him that believes –Mark 9:23”.To this day, that plaque sits next to my father’s bed. He is now fighting to keep his blood pressure at a reasonable level, battling against an unknown infection in his lungs, and ultimately rejecting his new organs. My father is one of the toughest people I know, hands down. As difficult as it is, I wrote this abbreviated version of his struggles as a testament to his character. All of you, whether you are family, friends of the family, my best friends, high school friends, teammates, or anyone who has prayed or kept him in your thoughts, I thank for your support. You don’t know how much you and all that you do helps me smile and laugh just to get through another day. And whether you realize it or not, you are directly or indirectly related to the fight that my father is a part of right now. He knows that all of you are praying and supporting his fight against illness. I thank you. My family thanks you. And most importantly, he thanks you. You all have done so much for me at this difficult time in my life. I am truly glad to say that I can rely on people like you and call you a friend. God Bless.
This was written by a friend of Adam as a thank you for all the prayers he knows everyone has been giving his father. Today I got the news that Dan had indeed gone home to be with our Lord and Savior. I rejoice in knowing he is there not suffering. Not in the pain he was in here for the last 11 years. I rejoice in knowing he has a perfect body.
I pray now for Bryant and his family as they grieve Dan.
I pray that I would share Christ the way that Dan did. I pray that when I'm going through tough times that I would continue to rely on God for his deliverance. I pray that Adam and the rest of Bryant's football friends would be there in Bryant's time of sorrow. That they would be there just to lend an ear or a shoulder. All Adam needs to do is love Bryant like Jesus.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.
2 Corinthians 1:3-7
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