Darryl C. Didier
April 29, 1966 — Oct. 31, 2007
[What] I noticed first was what was wrong with him: He walked with a severe limp, his speech was slurred, his face distorted, his motor skills were affected, and he couldn’t hear that well. Our hands missed on the first few handshake attempts.
But what I noticed next — and will always remember — was everything that was right about him. This guy was incredible. He had troubles, but they didn’t seem to trouble him. His life-is-wonderful outlook was piercing. His optimism became his defining trait. The guy was a fighter and didn’t let anyone tell him he couldn’t do something. He shared his inspiring story at schools, businesses, and prisons. He volunteered his time at his church and local hospital.
Darryl was about 39 when I met him. At 24 he was diagnosed with malignant, terminal brain cancer of the cerebellum and brain stem. The surgery would knock out his memory, movement, and speech. If he survived at all they said he probably wouldn’t walk or talk again. He was told he’d spend his time in a nursing home. But somehow about 15 years later I was meeting him at a coffee shop.
From Signal vs. Noise