Dear Larry:

It was Saturday and I had my To Do list out.  I had to get that climbing rose bush trimmed as it was getting out of control.  There were weeds to pull and gardening tasks to complete.  I knew my time was limited because the skies to the South were very dark and it was moving toward us quickly.  I was able to complete my tasks, gather my gardening tools, and close the garage doors just as the skies opened up and the rain pelted down on the roof of our house.

The remainder of the day promised to be rainy so I chose to make this a much-needed day of rest and relaxation.  My sanctuary is the sun room so I wrapped up in a blanket and settled in for the afternoon listening to the rain and thunder.  Looking for something on television was a futile exercise.  After looking through 1000 channels with nothing catching my attention, I started to look for a movie.

No, not true crime.  No, not a war story.  No, not a stupid comedy.  Definitely not horror or a thriller and, sorry Larry, not science fiction either.  I found a movie which looked like a sweet mushy romantic story.  At least the title sounded like that…..only it wasn’t.  I didn’t read the preview.  I should have read the preview.

The 19-year-old young man was a healthy college freshman who had just met the girl of his dreams who he intended in the future to marry and have dozens of babies.  The multimillionaire had everything he could ask for:  successful career in his family’s international business, handsome good looks, unlimited wealth, and the perfect wife.  What he did not have was half of his lung and his prognosis was dim.

The young man collapsed and went into a coma due to an undetected condition.  There is no hope.  He was brain dead.  His parents were unaware that he had agreed to be an organ donor when he got his driver’s license.  His father was adamite that his son’s body would not be desecrated.  The mother had a different viewpoint.

Nurses advocating for organ donors spoke with the young man’s parents and told them that there have been four recipients already identified who would live with organs from their son: liver, kidney, eyes and lungs.  Yes, of course, the lungs would save the life of the multimillionaire. 

Here is where my agony began and I flashed back seven years ago when we were waiting for two organs for you.  To complicate matters, you had the rarest of blood types and finding donors would be difficult.  I spent many hours in the hospital chapel praying for matches for you so that you would have a fighting chance to go through the surgeries and come back home with me. 

Intensive Care gave us both far too much time to think and create good and bad scenarios in our heads.  You, of course, were always a realist.  I think that you knew all along that with your heart valve issues that your heart might not endure the 9-hour surgery needed to transplant a liver.  I, on the other hand, refused to let this notion enter my head like it was an infection of thought that once introduced I could never kill, and it might begin a real life ending that I was not willing to entertain. 

So, I thought and I prayed for hours and hours begging God for clarity and healing for you.  He sent me clarity, but it was certainly not what I was asking for.  The clarity that God sent me was that if He granted my prayer, that two others families would have to live through the tragedy and grief of losing a loved one.  To save my husband, two other people would have to lose their lives and their families would have to experience the torture of their loss.  Now, I had no idea what to pray for.  All I could do was surrender this to God and repeat over and over, “Your will be done” as I realized that it was not in my hands anyway.

The flashbacks from this movie tortured me all day and filled my head with “If only I would have” and “Should I have made a different choice?”  It was a useless exercise in self-torture because nothing could change and I picked what I picked at the time thinking it was the best decision for you.  Nonetheless, the memories trigger tears and a sadness that will never go away.

The ceremony is called “Honor Walk”.  The donor, having been declared brain dead, is kept alive in order to keep the organs viable.  The donor will not die until the organs are all harvested.  As the donor is taken to the operating room, the halls of the hospital are lined with family, friends, doctors, nurses and staff from the hospital who stand in silence, in respect and in honor of the donor as well as for support for the family.  It is a moving gesture of respect and gratitude for the selfless gift of life and the price that was paid for it.

I miss you, my love.

Your wife,

P