The famed Humans of New York page consistently delivers heartwarming stories of people around the city, but none have been quite so gut-wrenching as yesterday's story, recounting Omar Samra's tragic tale about the loss of his wife.
Egyptian hero and mountain climber Omar Samra made the world weep yesterday through the famed Humans of New York page. Whilst many of HONY's stories are undoubtedly heartwarming, none hit home quite like Samra's tragedy. Told through five separate posts, Samra discusses the gut-wrenching loss of his wife who passed away after giving birth to their first daughter. Read on below. All pictures are taken from Humans of New York.
“I’ve become much less goal oriented as I’ve grown older. I spent twelve years dreaming about climbing Mt. Everest. It was all I thought about. During my years of training, I focused all my thoughts on getting to the summit. My self worth, and the meaning of those years, all depended on that one moment of getting to the top. It’s not healthy to be that goal oriented. And Everest is a perfect example why. The weather can change at any moment, and even though you did everything right, and trained the correct amount, you can still fall short. And if you’re thinking of nothing but the final goal—all those years, all that effort, and all the personal growth that you achieved, becomes worthless if you don’t reach the top."
“The birth went fine. Teela was born early so they took her and put her behind glass under a blue light. For the next couple days, I went back and forth between Marwa’s room and the room where Teela was under the blue light. Eventually Marwa got better to the point where she could sit in a wheelchair, so I pushed her down the hall so she could meet our daughter. We all took a picture together. Later that afternoon we were preparing Marwa for a CT scan, and her sister was helping to take out her hair extensions. Suddenly Marwa sat up really fast, and she looked so scared, like she’d seen a ghost. She fell toward me and I took her in my arms and she started having a seizure. The doctors pulled me away and I started fighting with them, but they wheeled Marwa away to the ICU. They told me it would be fine, and I could go home, but I slept in the waiting room, and that night the doctor called my cellphone and said ‘Come now.’ When I got to the ICU, they told me, ‘We lost her for a bit, and if she comes back now, we don’t know how much of her will come back.” It didn’t feel real. It was like the movies. I was standing right over her and her heart rate monitor would go flat, and these two huge men would start hammering her in the chest, and she was so tiny, and her heart would beat for a couple more minutes and then it would go flat again. And then I heard the doctor say ‘Let’s give it one last try.’ And then I heard the doctor say ‘Time of death.’ And then he turned to me and said, ‘We’ll leave you here. Take all the time you need.’ And when they left me alone, I was like a madman. I didn’t know what to do. I started taking photos of her hands, and her feet, and I cut off bits of her hair. And when I walked out of the room I felt so empty. Like I was nothing.”