Lane DeGregory and Melissa Lyttle teamed up to tell a story and the results are of course remarkable
When Charla Moye finally found her daughter sprawled on a friend's bed, naked and blue, she knew Liane was dying. "Call 911!" Charla screamed to her daughter's friends, who were just standing there. "Someone, call 911!" Charla planted both hands on her daughter's chest and started pumping. When that didn't work, she leaned down and covered her daughter's mouth with her own. She could taste the bile, what was left of the vomit. Charla, a 58-year-old cardiac nurse, had spent decades caring for strangers, from South Tampa to South America. But on that Saturday afternoon in April, the week before Easter 2011, she couldn't save her only child. She followed the ambulance to the hospital. Through tears, Charla asked the emergency room doctor to do something other parents might not have thought of during such a crisis: "At least save her organs."
She kept expecting her daughter to come home. It wasn't denial. Or even hope. She just couldn't imagine her world without Liane.
Even while she was choosing a casket, even when she was selecting flowers for the funeral, Charla Moye was watching for Liane to walk through the door.
"I keep hearing her voice," Charla said.
A week had dragged by since she had found her only child dying in a friend's bed, bloated and blue. Charla, a 58-year-old cardiac nurse, had tried to revive Liane, 31. Two days later, she took her off life support.
Charla had donated Liane Adgate's organs — and four of the eight had been placed. Some of the recipients, Charla knew, were probably still in the hospital recovering. Others might already be home, enjoying their second chances.
Charla isn't religious. But on that day before Easter two years ago, sitting alone in her silent home, she kept contemplating resurrection, life beyond death.
Somewhere, in strangers, her daughter still lived. If she saw them, would she still see Liane?