Legacy

Steve and I both felt very strongly about organ and tissue donation. I was lucky we had spoken about it because in the hours after his death I had to make a decision. You see, they didn't look at the back of his driver's license, which would have shown he wanted to donate. And evidently, even if they had, I could have stopped them. It is a decision that the next of kin legally has to approve. 

Sitting on the phone with a social worker at midnight, knowing I wasn't going to get any sleep but still wanting to feel like I could accomplish something, I fulfilled my husband's desires to help others by approving his tissue donation.

Every few weeks I get something in the mail from Washington Regional Transplant Community. Sometimes it's a flier about grieving the loss of a loved one, sometimes it's an invite to attend a special remembrance ceremony, sometimes it's specific to Steve. Today's mail contained a letter from a recipient who has benefited from Steve's donations.

The handwriting is shaky and cramped, reminding me of letters from Great Aunt's and Grandmother's I've received over the years, and so I've decided the writer is a little old lady. Whoever it was didn't sign their name. They didn't specifically say what they had done or what they received from my husband. But she did write about a pond where she walks her little dog and say her morning prayers. She says that because of my husband's donation she will be able to continue to do this.

I imagine my grandmother or Steve's mother when I picture this woman. In my mind's eye I see a small white dog with a smiling face, happy to be with it's mistress again, happy to be walking the familiar path around a small pond. And I cry to know my Stevie lives on by helping others.

Mistress, wherever you are, thank you for thanking me. This image brings me such peace. Such hope. Such joy.