A couple of weeks ago I published an article in which I discussed organ donation and two incidents involving individuals who found themselves in a position where they had to make decisions concerning ending the lives of family members who had been declared brain-dead. If you didn’t have a chance to read the article, you can find it here.
One Friday afternoon during my first year in law school (1979), while I was sitting in the law library, a girl who was in one of my classes walked over to me and asked, “What is that book you’re reading?” She had seen the title of the book, The Woman Shall Conquer, and was wondering what it was about.
About six years ago on a Thursday morning around 10 o’clock, I got a phone call from Georgette. At the time, I was at my office. She told me that a man we both knew was on life support at one of the local hospitals. He was in his 60s and had gone in for surgery earlier that morning. Something went wrong during the surgery, and he had stopped breathing. The surgical team was able to bring him back to life, but his wife and children were told that he was “brain dead.” The only thing keeping him alive was a ventilator (a breathing machine).
After arriving home on a Thursday evening a couple of months ago, I learned that three of my daughters – Mary (20), Christine (18), and Teresa (16) – were planning on going to the midnight showing of the newly released movie The Avengers. When I found out about their plans, I announced, “You’re not going tonight. You can wait one more day and go tomorrow at a more reasonable time.”
Although I grew up watching heroes such as Superman, Batman, and the Lone Ranger on television, my very first heroes were my dad, Carl Williams, and my grand-father, Tom Williams. My grandfather lived next door to my parents and was of Lebanese descent. In Lebanese, a grandfather is referred to as “Jidu.” That’s what all his grandchildren called him: “Jidu.”