A terminally-ill, 72-year-old Catholic man gave this letter to his doctors. He was a widower, the father of three adult children and, quite obviously, an organ donor.
TO: Doctors, Hospitals and Emergency Medical Personnel
At a certain moment, a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and, for all intents and purposes, my life on this earth has ended. When that happens, don�t call this my death bed. Instead, call it my �Bed of Life� and let my body be taken to help many others lead fuller lives.
Give my corneas to a man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby�s face or the love in the eyes of a woman.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Give my brain to: Brain and Tissue Bank for Developmental Disorders, 655 W. Baltimore Street, Baltimore MD 21201-1599. My hope is that they can find a way to cure Dystonia and Tourette�s syndrome, both of which I have.
Give my blood to a teenager who has been pulled from the wreckage of a car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. Give my lungs to someone who could not quit smoking soon enough.
Take my bones, every muscle, fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk.
Take my cells and let them grow, so that a speechless child will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf child will hear the sound of rain against her window.
Send what is left of my body to be used for the study and training of new doctors. If you must bury something, let it be my many faults, my weaknesses, and all my prejudice against my fellow man.
I give my sins to the devil.
I have forever given my spiritual heart and my soul to God.
If you wish to remember me, do it with a kind word or deed to someone who needs you.
If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.
