The Student

   Today I received an unexpected package in my post office box from the University of South Dakota, the school where Randy's body was donated. Included were the program from the memorial they hosted in September, an engraved glass ornament, and a few pages stapled together with single-spaced type. Those few pages caused me to stop and take a couple of moments to compose myself.

   Four students, one from each medical program, stood up during the service and expressed their gratitude to their donors and the donor families for choosing to further the field of medicine with their gift. One struck me in particular when I first heard it and I was so happy to see it in my package. It epitomizes the depth of heart behind the science.

   "I do not know all the paths you chose to walk down in life, but I have felt the fibers of all the muscles that carried you there. I do not know what made your heart burst with love, but I have pictured how the blood flowed through the four chambers of your heart. I do not know what life dreams you had, but I have traced your nerves to see how it was possible for your brain to realize them. I do not know what moments in your life made you sigh with relief or in despair, but I have touched the lungs that held your breath.

   "I do not know the many hands you lovingly held in yours, but I have felt the strength of each of your fingers. I do not know all the burdens you carried on your shoulders, but I have cut through the tension you carried there. I do not know the beauty and brokenness you witnessed in your lifetime, but I have seen how you were able to see the world. I do not know what nourished and nurtured you, but I have met all the organs that worked hard to sustain you. I do not know the children you gave life to, but I have been awed by the inner workings of your womb. I do not know how many times your heart was broken, but I have uncovered the sac that housed your tears. I do not know the lovers who knew you so well, but I have come to know all the layers and spaces of your body. I do not know your name, but before you left you gave me permission to uncover the miracle of the human body through you. You gave me the gift of knowing you."

- Courtney Kolbeck, PA Student

The Reaper

   At five minutes to two a.m. on November 15, 2014, with the snow gently falling in large, clustered flakes onto the courtyard outside the window and the lights from the hall of the hospice wing casting soft shadows across the room, he breathed a deep sigh...

   ...and all was still.