Saverino Agostino

Organ Donor

1952 — 2001

I met Saverino in college; he was a first generation Italian-American, while I was Protestant, DAR and part Native American. We had nothing in common except a determination to be the first in our family to get a college degree. In getting our college degrees we ended up in love despite coming from different worlds. He asked me to marry him on our 2nd date and I said no. He kept asking every date until I finally said yes a year later. I remember how proud he was taking me home to meet his parents, and how bewildered I was by how many relatives were at his house, and that none of them were speaking English. That was our second year in college, and I was determined to finish my education before marriage, so we were married 6 years later - just after receiving my MEd. Rino followed me to graduate school in Atlanta, GA and took Mercer School of Pharmacy by storm. He made Who's Who in American Colleges and Universities both at Virginia Wesleyan and Mercer School of Pharmacy. Always a leader he was elected President of the Student Pharmaceutical Association, and went on to become a successful pharmacist after graduation. I think he was proudest of his 4 daughters; the twins were 20 when he died, then there was his 15 year old and 13 year old. We were living the American Dream, having built our dream house on the river and his becoming pharmacy manager at a major chain. The twins had been gymnast turned cheerleaders, and named All-American Cheerleaders in 1999, going on to cheer at the same college. Our 15 year-old was qualifying to Elite Gymnastics. He never got to see the twins graduate college and also earn a spot in Who's Who in American Colleges and Universities. He never got to see his middle daughter make it all the way to JO Nationals. His buddying actress, had performed on stage since the age of 5, but was always in minor roles; he was sure she would get the lead one day though. November 1, 2001 she was finally to open as the lead in the school play that would go to state competition. He bought roses and hid them in the refrigerator so he could present them to the star opening night. He could hardly sleep the night before opening, as he and a couple pharmacy buddies had managed to snare tee times for 7:30am opening day of the Signature at West Neck (a course designed by his hero Arnold Palmer). That morning he kissed me and promised to be back in time to shower and take his starring lady to dinner before opening curtain. On the 9th green he dropped dead from a massive heart attack, while she was on stage for a school performance of the play. I remember getting a call from the golf pro about "an accident." I was dressing for the opening and mad at him for probably getting hit by a golf ball, and felt silly rushing to the hospital in a long dress and sneakers, becaue I could not find my heels. His best friend had been playing golf with him and met me at the door telling me to tie my laces before I tripped in the ER. While I was bent down lacing up, his wife burst through the door wailing, and it suddenly occurred to me that everything I knew about life was forever changed. I did not want to talk to the minister or the representative from Lifenet, it was not fair, I wanted him to see his daughter on stage that night. Seeing the spirit gone from the man who was everyone's friend and kept us laughing, I did not want all the life he had in him to go to waste. I was ready to sign the Donor papers even though I was not ready to let him go. Friends had gathered our girls, for the hardest news they would ever hear. After collapsing, the youngest called her director to say she would open, because there was no understudy, and her dad would not want her to let the troupe down. The tears and hyterics she had to perform on stage were real, yet an unreal escape from a terrible reality. At state, she won best actress, and later that year one of her sisters was a member of NATO's Azalea Festival Court. I am no longer living the American Dream; the only thing that keeps life from being the American Nightmare is watching our daughters trying to live life with the same spirit of 120% that he always took into anything he did. I cry tears for all the special momments in their lives he is missing, but then I turn and dive back into the fray of raising 4 kids, remembering all the magical memories he left us. The pain will always be there, I will miss the partner I was suposed to grow old with, and even feel cheated that our daughters had to grow up too soon, but life is seldom easy or comfortable. He was never ordinary, so I know what he gave to others could do nothing but make their lives extraordinary. I do not remember the days and weeks after he died, but was told people waited in the rain at his service, because every inch inside was taken. Stangers that benefited from his remains should be proud that hundreds came to say good-bye, and they now have part of a special person that always brought light and laughter with him.