Over a decade ago, my mother was told that she had a liver disorder. It was pretty devastating in its way. But it was something that she could survive. Down the road, there would probably have to be a transplant. That was an inevitability. But for over ten years, my mom held it off. She fought back the best way she could, by taking control of her life and making the changes necessary to her health and her life. She did it for herself, because she knew her family needed her and because she wanted to see her grandchildren grow and be at their graduations, weddings and just their lives in general.
And then a couple years ago, things started to slip. The changes in her diet weren't enough. Her positive attitude wasn't going to stave things off any longer. As I already wrote, transplant was inevitable. She was on the list. And moving up. And then it finally came down to it. My parents were responsible of course. They had the time off taken care of. They had money put aside to deal with things. They made arrangements for my sister's care when they couldn't be there for her.
But there was one thing that no one could control.
There was no liver for my mom.
For so many days and nights we prayed and hoped and tried to keep our chins up because it was our turn to be there for mom. To be positive, to be encouraging. The one thing that I couldn't do though, was contemplate saying goodbye. But it seemed that this was the choice we were down to. My mother's kidney's were starting to fail, there was damage there and the doctor wasn't sure that in the condition she was in that they would be able to go ahead with a transplant.
And in one moment everything changed. Because someone had chosen to give a gift that is beyond measure. Beyond any wealth. It is not one that can adequately be repaid, but we try in thanks and prayers and paying it forward with kindness and love.
Someone chose to donate their organs and my mother was one of the recipients. I do not know who this person was, whether a male or female. How old, married, single, if they had children of their own. I just know that my mother was eventually able to recover and with time, regain so much of herself that we had to think might be gone from our lives sooner than we could accept.
The day that my mother walked into my home, under her own steam and hugged her grandchildren to her was one of the best days of my life.
To Remember Me - A poem by Robert N. Test
Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby's face, or love in the eyes of a woman.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week.
Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk.
If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses, and all prejudice against my fellow man.
Give my sins to the devil.
Give my soul to God.
If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.
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