There's a time for everything: a time for mourning, a time for joy, a time to smile and a time to cry. There's a time to live, and inevitably, there's a time to die. But, that doesn't stop Lee Hernandez. He has been in hospice for a year and a half. He has not been taken responsibility for by the VA, and against all odds, he can walk.
He can walk.
He can talk.
And he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon.
And believe me, he has lived a full life. Standing at around five eight, aged 47 years, feeling with the heart of a fighter and serving 18 years in the United States Military, Lee Hernandez goes against the odds.
He has suffered 19-20 strokes, three brain surgeries and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
The Hernandez home was lined with silver. Portraits of faith sprinkled the walls, family photos galore. The home smelled like homemade food and a lot of care. I could hear Lee speaking to his wife when I walked in. I could feel hope in the air.
About a week ago, Hernandez told his wife he wanted to hear from people. He asked her for his phone. After two hours of sitting, hunched over in his chair, holding the phone up to his ear with his hands, which according to his wife, are getting weaker every second, no calls came in.
"I guess no one wants to talk to me."
That's when this story caught my attention.
And now, after his wife relayed the message along with her contact information, the Hernandez family has received over 200,000 text messages and calls every couple of minutes. In fact, the phone crashed because of all of the calls coming in.
And I was lucky enough to watch Lee Hernandez take a couple of calls.
And although he can barely speak, he responds. Watching the look of joy come across the face of a man who deserves to feel it in his final days was priceless.
I asked his wife what the hardest time of day is for her. She told me sleeping at night is hard, and because her and Lee never had children, they have a special bond. After losing most of his eyesight, Lee can still read her like a book. When he hears her cry in the middle of the night, he tells her, "I'm not giving up anytime soon."
That helps her sleep.
It made me wonder what kind of validation most people need to sleep, whether that be self or validation from others. All of my needs for validation began to melt away.
And then, Lee's nurse arrived at his home. His nurse said it was a miracle that he could walk.
Lee sleeps in a chair with a blanket covering his entire body. He lets out mumbles when he needs something in hopes that his wife or his mother-in-law will hear him.
Coming from a family of Europeans, I only had one army veteran, my uncle, who wasn't even born in the U.S. serve in the military, yet I've always felt an obligation to veterans.
I've also always believed that people come into your life for a reason, and I can't seem to get Lee Hernandez out of my head.
It goes to show, that even when you're low, and I mean really low; no matter what you could possibly be going through, there is always someone going through someone worse than you. And, as odd as it is to say, there is someone out there going through something worse than Lee Hernandez and his wife.
It also goes to show the power of journalism. In this day and age, being called an "enemy of the people" by your president isn't exactly a good kind of validation. In this day and age, I will fight to share the utmost truth and hold people accountable for their actions -- good or bad, regardless of what anyone says.
