On those days that I felt low or maybe even a little poor-me, I'd always see David. He'd be in his electric wheelchair, smiling and making jokes and spreading joy as he rolled along. Always cheerful, always wishing me a good day, always telling happy stories, always bringing a smile to my face. When I would call the hospital blood bank to make appointments for my surgical patients to donate blood for themselves, David would answer the phone and say, "wait, let me get my brain." Born with many birth defects, his body was small and mis-shaped, and he was without much use of his hands or arms, but he would still grab his dictaphone and save the information I would give him about the patient. Really, I could never quite understand how he managed to do all he did, get around on his own, perform his job well, and make everyone he met a little happier.
I don't know why some people have it easy or why some people have it tough in life. David was dramatically challenged yet never complained, never talked about his situation, and never seemed anything but upbeat. It was a medical miracle that he survived so long with his condition, well into his fifties, and a local research hospital was even studying him, following his life as he aged. To me, he was an angel, a person put on earth with a special mission....to show us how to make the best of life and to spread sunshine to all he met. I just can't imagine not seeing him anymore, but I'll never forget him. If there is a heaven, David is there, enjoying freedom from his earthly pain and smiling. I just appreciate that he was a part of my life for so long. Thanks, David, for all the happy moments you brought me. I wish you peace and joy forever.