John Grant
Donor Hero
“Our love story began in June of 1984. I was Peace Corps-bound, my bachelor’s degree in biology still hot in my hand, and happily single. The Peace Corps held its staging process in Miami, and we were all arriving for this process when the elevator doors opened, and there stood John Grant. I was smitten,” shared donor wife, Julie.
“To this day, I can tell you every detail about that first encounter: from John’s hazel eyes that always caught his joy, to his dimples, to his to-die-for Southern accent, to his Miami Vice linen sports coat, to his iconic ‘70s mustache. I was excited to discover we were both headed to the aquaculture program in Ecuador. It took me a couple of weeks to convince him that being unattached is highly overrated. We started dating during our three months of in-country training and spent the next two years working in the jungles of Ecuador, falling in love.
Our story continued as we brought our romance stateside and returned to school; John decided to pursue his Master’s, while I opted for a career in nursing. We eloped in 1988, and I was pregnant with our first son when we moved to South Carolina in 1991, finally putting down roots and hoping to raise our sons in the idyllic small-town life of the rural South. That is precisely what we did. I loved John from the very beginning, so I was utterly unprepared for how much that love could grow when he became a dad. Daniel was born in 1992, and Aaron was born in 1996. We were the Grant Family Pod; seldom was one seen anywhere without the others when we were able. John was a great husband, terrific father and a good, good man. We lived our love every day, and for that, I am beyond thankful.
Hard conversations about afterlife wishes are essential to have, regardless of your age or marital status. Are you an organ donor? Do you want to be cremated or buried, or donated to science or planted into a tree? What about account godparents for your children, account beneficiaries, passwords, possessions, funeral homes and the list goes on and on. I am so glad we had these conversations because when our world tiled on its axis on July 9th of 2018, and my healthy husband suffered a head bleed that was incompatible with life, I knew exactly what his wishes were. I was able to tell the nurse with confidence that John was an organ donor.
I have had the privilege of having contact with many of John’s recipients. Angie, John’s kidney recipient, was the first person to contact me, and her gratitude warmed my heart, inspiring me to reach out to the others. I had the privilege of meeting her and her mother on a trip to California, and she is now living her life without dialysis.
A man named David received John’s liver. David and John used to work together. With his new lease on life, David was able to walk his daughter down the aisle at her wedding, into the arms of her sweet love, who happened to be my coworker’s son. It was a double blessing that they were a perfect match, and I’m glad to see him often.
I got to meet John’s lung recipient, J.R., and the love of his life, Ann, who have become like family. J.R. was able to walk his youngest daughter down the aisle at her wedding and welcome three grandchildren into their family. Sadly, last year, J.R. was diagnosed with cancer, and he lost his battle in August. I attended his celebration of life, and it hurt my heart, a lot. Every person I met and hugged that day said, “Thank you for giving him seven more years.”
I think being in the presence of those who were able to go on living, laughing and loving because John is the greatest way to celebrate his life and our love. This doesn’t even touch on the countless others who received John’s bone, tissue, skin and corneas. Before reaching out to John’s recipients, I tried to think about how they might feel, and I sought to allay any guilt that might creep in and overshadow their joy. I wanted them to know that I truly believed that John didn’t die in order to give them life; John simply died, as we all will, and the gift they received was God’s way to painting beauty with ashes.
When I visited the We Are Sharing Hope SC office, I threw a rock into the pond and discussed the ripples of love with their aftercare team. It occurred to me that at the time of donation, that metaphorical stone is dropped into the water, and those ripples will emanate regardless of whether they are seen. Because of SHSC, I have received the gift of being able to witness the living and loving and laughing that occurred from John’s gift. Every ripple of love that washed up against my grief ebbed away a bit of sorrow and left hope and even joy in its wake.”
You can read more about Julie’s faith and grief journey in her book, Streams of Light from a Heart Broken by Julie Grant.
