His death saved six lives
I’m off now,’ my boyfriend smiled, kissing my forehead.
Clad in his motorcycle gear, Riley, 26, was heading out to take some pictures.
An award-winning photographer, he was always off on adventures to snap brilliant shots.
‘Drive safe!’ I called, our ritual whenever he was out on his motorbike.
‘I always do,’ he grinned. We’d met while we were both working at McDonald’s and were so smitten we moved in together just three months later.
Big-hearted Riley would help me dye my hair funky colours and would have me in stitches building us indoor forts out of blankets.
After getting his first bike, we sat down and had a chat about the risks.
‘Just be careful,’ I pleaded. ‘You know I am,’ he said. Riley was a smart driver and heeded my words.
I soon got my own scooter and we’d go out together, with him riding behind protectively.
Then in August 2016, Riley went to visit his mum. He left early and planned to meet his friends at an ice hockey match later.
That night, I noticed his computer lit up with a message from a friend.
I didn’t see you at the game? it said.
Panic started to wash over me.
He should be home by now, I thought.
I tried calling him, but hours ticked by with no word. At 10pm, the police phoned.
‘Your boyfriend is in hospital with a few broken bones,’ the officer said. ‘But he’s going to be okay.’
A driver had crossed into his path, crashing into him.
Luckily, he only had a broken leg and wrists.
Rushing to hospital, Riley’s family and I sat in the waiting room, laughing with each other. As the night inched into morning, a nurse ushered us into a room.
‘He’s just having some trouble waking up,’ she told us gently.
At 5.30am, a doctor arrived with more news.
Riley had been pronounced brain dead
‘Riley had a stroke while under anaesthesia,’ he explained. ‘He’s going to die.’
The words hit me like a ton of bricks and I ran from the room in a daze.
After organising friends and family to say goodbye, I went for a walk around the hospital when his mum called me.
Riley had been pronounced brain dead. He was gone.
I collapsed on the floor in shock, overcome with grief.
When I was allowed to see him, a doctor approached me.
‘Would you like to donate his organs?’ he asked.
My mind drifted back to the conversation we’d had when Riley first got his motorcycle.
I’d asked him what I should do if he passed away.
‘Well, I wouldn’t be using them!’ he’d joked. ‘It would be really nice if someone else could.’
So his family and I gave our permission.
His kidneys, heart, liver, lungs and pancreas were a match for six people.
Six lives. Six families, that Riley would change.
It felt surreal.
Afterwards, I was lost without him. Every day felt like the worst day of my life.
The driver, Limin Ma, 41, was a Chinese tourist trying to cross to a rest area on the other side of the road when he’d collided with Riley.
In court, he pleaded guilty to careless driving causing death and was disqualified from driving for two years.
Just two years – when he’d taken away mine and Riley’s whole future.
The only silver lining was the people who Riley had
saved. As the months passed I couldn’t stop thinking about them.
One recipient was a 12-month-old baby.
As time went on, I forced myself to start living life again and tried to be social.
At a party, a friend introduced me to Matt, 28.
He was so caring and supportive, and we soon fell for each other.
‘I want to meet the people Riley saved,’ I told Matt, thinking it would help me get closure.
In May this year, with Riley’s family’s support, I plucked up the courage to put a call-out on Facebook.
My name is Amy. In August 2016 my boyfriend Riley passed away, I wrote. If you got a transplant around August 15, please get in touch.
The next morning, I woke up to hundreds of messages of support. One woman in particular caught my eye.
I’m 99 per cent sure I have Riley’s kidney and pancreas, she wrote.
After chatting for a while, we arranged to meet each other. Matt came with me.
As the bus pulled into the station, I looked out of the window to see her waving like crazy with a huge grin on her face.
Tearing up, I gave her a big cuddle.
As we sat down to have lunch, I finally broached the subject of Riley’s death.
‘Can you tell me about
When Amy lost her partner, she wanted to find the people he saved Amy McCarthy, 24, Dunedin, NZ
‘Would you like to donate his organs?’
your transplant?’ I asked.
Smiling, she lifted her shirt to show me the faint scar on her belly.
This makes it so real, I thought to myself.
I knew she was someone Riley would have been proud to have saved.
Since then, she and I have become good friends and talk regularly. We’re even planning another meet-up soon.
I’d love to meet the other recipients too.
I may have lost someone I loved so much – but now six people have a life.