JON KRAUSE NewsArt.com
One of the great paradoxes of life is that in the darkest of times, the human spirit can shine most brightly. Out of pain and suffering, joy can triumph.
In 1988, after 25 surgeries over five years to save his leg after an accident, my husband, Frank W. McReynolds, developed a serious bone infection and had to have his leg amputated. I met him several years later, and one of the reasons I fell in love with him was that instead of becoming bitter, he told me that he had grown from the experience, and that it had made him a better man.
He used his ordeal to help others. When he faced amputation, there was no one he could turn to for support, so he launched Advocacy for Amputees to help others facing loss of a limb – to take the fear away and provide information about prosthetics and available resources.
One day a local hospital asked him to visit a patient facing amputation. When he entered the patient’s room, the man snapped, “What do you know about it, anyway?” Frank took off his prosthesis and tossed it on the patient’s bed. Suddenly, the man paid attention.
Because of his own experience, my husband related not only to the disabled but to those afflicted with other severe challenges. He counseled parolees with substance abuse problems. He pumped them up with hope and encouragement and helped them turn their lives around.
I have discovered that in the darkness we find precious gems buried in our hearts and souls that can bring light to others. Not only did my husband’s pain bring out powerful inner resources of strength and character, but so did the gifts of human compassion shine like fire in those who helped him through many more physical ordeals over the past two years, including an above-knee amputation and colon cancer.
In December, Frank suffered his final blow – a major stroke. For six weeks, he was left completely incapacitated. He lost his ability to speak, to swallow, to eat, to move except for his left arm and leg.
As I walked through this bleakest tunnel of my life, the glow of the human spirit shone like stars that are most radiant in the blackest of nights. I was showered with scintillating scenes of the difference each of us can make in the life of another.
I became aware of details I would never have noticed or appreciated before – the “little things” – nurses offering a smile, a bit of humor, encouragement; priests and chaplains visiting with words of comfort and inspiration; a doctor taking extra time to listen and explain; a cup of coffee suddenly appearing from a nurse’s assistant; daily phone calls from friends and family checking up and offering help.
From the examples of my husband and those who helped him through his many challenges, I learned that what we do for ourselves will pass, but what we do for others will last forever. I learned that light triumphs over darkness.
Frank’s suffering generated his greatest gift to our community – caring more about others than himself. Despite his final ordeal, he never lost this gift. When family and friends came to comfort him in the hospital, he squeezed their hands and greeted them with a thumbs-up or a smile – offering even then his strong faith, powerful spirit and love. Even during his last days, he gave his friends a big wink. I believe he was telling us that no matter what the earthly view, the up-look is glorious.
A young nephew of mine wrote recently that “Frank’s positive attitude in the face of adversity has always been a source of inspiration for me.”
Shortly after my husband passed away on Jan. 30, a fellow amputee left this message on his voice mail: “Frank, you don’t need my number any more because you’re walking with me. I trust and love you always. I know you’re free now. You have no pain. You’re walking on two good legs. God bless you.”
Frank used to say to those he was helping, “Don’t leave before the miracle happens.” As another of his friends said about my husband: “He didn’t.”