<div>On July 27, 2025, I received a call that forever changed my life. My dad had been revived at home and rushed to the hospital. From that moment on, he remained in medical care—either in the hospital or a rehab facility—facing unimaginable challenges. He endured two strokes, diabetic emergencies, sepsis, and other long-term health complications. Yet through it all, he fought with quiet strength and grace.

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<div>On September 25, I was in Pennsylvania coaching a volleyball match—our first win of the season. I hadn’t noticed the missed calls until the adrenaline wore off, and I checked my phone. My heart sank. I called back immediately and was told my dad had passed at 8:50 p.m.—just minutes before my game ended. I missed the call, but I believe God allowed me that moment of joy before the heartbreak.

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<div>My dad was the gentlest soul you could ever meet. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He avoided conflict, cherished peace, and found joy in seeing others happy. He was the kind of person who made the world feel softer, kinder, better. He left this earth far too soon, and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But I find comfort in knowing he’s no longer in pain and is resting peacefully in Heaven.

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<div>As we prepare to honor his life and lay him to rest, I’m humbly asking for donations to help with funeral costs. Every contribution—no matter the amount—will help ease the financial burden and allow us to give him the farewell he deserves.

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<div>Thank you for your prayers, kind words, texts, calls, and unwavering support. Your love means more than I can ever express, and I’m deeply grateful to have you walking beside me during this difficult time.

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<div>With love and gratitude,

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<div>Mercedes

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Reginald Proctor

Azim Williams

Jackie Pigford

Remembering his gentle soul, Gary Maynard

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