Speeches and shit

Our son, Daniel Kerry Couey lost is fight for life but won the battle for love on Wednesday, October 26th, 2011.

Danny received his first heart transplant in 1997 when he was 14 years old.  In 2004 he was re-listed to wait for another heart. He received it on Monday, October 24th and then passed it on by donating his eyes. 

Danny never defined himself by his limitations and is an inspiration to all who knew him. He loved life fiercely and never feared the unknown, especially death. Teaching people to be true to themselves and to do the right thing was a calling of his. He said, "everyone deserves a second chance, so don't fuckin' blow it."  After receiving his his 2nd chance we were all in awe of his donor family's gift of life in the midst of their heartbreak. Then having faced his sister Mary's death, our entire family now truly understands what that gift means.  Danny donated his eyes so others can see the true beauty of a smile, the love of family and friends, and the undefinable price of living.  

Danny's wish is for everyone to sign up to be an organ donor.  It is the greatest gift you can give. 

Day 4 of my next life

I'm still standing in the middle of the desert.  I can see spots around me turning to glass so slick you would slide off if you tried to stand on it. I think.  Everything else is still devoid of color, movement, taste, smell.  But there is oxygen and I am not blind.  I'm still standing in the same spot, not sinking into the sea of sand.  I'm not sure what the glass spots are. There is a spec of motion on the edge of my vision.  Could be the start of a migraine, or the end.

I do not understand why the beginning of this road is so different from the last road.  I'm hoping it's because my brain realized I can't withstand that kind of pain ever again.  

I am moody today. I am pissed at everyone. I may not be nice today.  I need to build my wall taller. But how do you build a wall out of sand?  Is life a bowl of sand?  Sand castles eventually dry up and fall apart. 


Every time I let reality in for even a second my chest is flattened by a steam roller.  It hurts so fucking much I don't know what to do.  Writing doesn't help, not yet. I need my punching bag.


Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out...


The fire is mesmerizing. I love to hear the flicker of flames, snap and crackle of the wood, and feel the warmth even if it is only one sided.  You have to keep turning around to wrap up in it.  Just like life, you have to be an active part of the relationship or it won't work.  Else one side will fry and one side will freeze. Take responsibility for your actions.

Day 3 of my next life

The morning was hard.  I could not stop crying.  I tried.  I didn't get out of my chair all day long.  My wall started crumbling but I patched it back up.  It's mostly patch work now.  I watched lots of TV shows to help with fending off reality. 

Day 2 of my next life

This desert is calm.  No sand storms, no searing heat, no inviting mirages, nothing but sand everywhere.  I've just been standing here looking around.  There is no path, nothing to help me know where to turn. And I don't know what to do.  I don't know where north or west is.  

I'm not hungry or tired.  I don't really feel anything.  I don't hear anything. I guess this is what existence is when you've lost sight of where you were heading.  Maybe life has to catch up with you to populate your world.  I don't want to populate it if Danny isn't coming home.  

I cry but I do not let myself sob. I remember how that felt with Mary and I will not let myself go there.  I cannot handle that kind of pain again.  And Danny knows that. I am not a walking zombie, I am numb and that's just fine with me.

Danny's friends are hanging out in his room, doing what they always do, talking, laughing, drinking, watching TV, waiting for him to come up stairs.  I LOVE IT.  I'm waiting too.  I see him walking around the house, mostly from his side into the kitchen.  Just strolling along, not hurrying.  He never hurried except to go to the bathroom or go to Zak's or Mary's.  

Love you more, love you most. 

Here we go again...again...

Danny is gone. And there's no one to blame.  My last words before they wheeled him away for his transplant were "see you on the other side". 

I have been ripped from my nice warm fuzzy anticipation bubble and slam dunked into the middle of a vast, empty, desert.  I am still wondering how this happened and why it's not my beach place.