A gift from the past

I got a call this week. A newspaper reporter, from there, wants to talk to me, about us, our life, your death. I think I may accept. I'm thinking about it. I don't want to reopen the painful memories, yet I can't help but wonder if it will help others. I'm hoping a couple of people will be investigated thoroughly, and maybe they will get their just desserts. I try to live the way you told me I should. Joy, love, and all the things we had would always fill my heart. I know you never wanted to leave, but you had to. There was no hope, nor help from those who could have tried to save you.  

 Lord, I still dislike their arrogance and their sickness. They fed off the misfortune of others for so long, for a few pieces of silver. Fat and greedy is what they are, fat and greedy they always have been.

I found the note you left for me, and the last gift you saved for me to stumble across. I cried, with love and gratitude, and missed you so much more. To think that four years have passed, and yet you still surprise me, your presence is real.

The trees are tall, and the flowers grow where you planted them, so I sit and reflect on what our lives were. What unabashed joy you had when you were with me! How my heart aches to feel this loss.

So I wait for a sign. I find no pleasure in the misfortune of others, but in reality, there has not been an apology, not a letter asking for forgivness, no admission of theft and betrayal.

Ask them, there were so many of them, why didn't one of them step up to the plate?

Karma!

Four years since he is gone. Four very long years, yet it seems as if it were only yesterday.

Yes, I am still here. I live, and I do so because he said I would. He gave me instructions, and encouragement, and words of love before he died, yet I could not believe that he would die. How could he? But he was failed by those who made promises to him they had no intention of keeping.

I was angry! How could they have failed him? Yet somehow, I purged them from my mind. No I did not firgive, that was not mine to do. I just let them slip from my mind. That is, until this year, when I found things missing from my home. No, they did not admit their guilt, but their story changed from day to day. Then they knew the gig was up. They sent some things back, but they still have some of our posessions. But then, how would they know what I have been made aware of?

A simple word of advice for those who think it's ok to steal from the dying. You know who you are, and I know you come to read what I write, you want to prepare, you are afraid. Well, be afraid. Karma is a bitch, and she is coming to get you.  Yes, you! I was done, I was at peace, and you thought you were going to get away with it?  This is my home, this was OUR home, and you violated our trust. You stole from us. You will never be welcome here.

    

A look back

I'm looking at the cards and letters we got from the Christmas of the year before you died. I looked at your card to me, and yes, I cried. You no longer had hope, but you had a heart full of love, and you tried to make life easier for me after you were gone. I didn't believe you would be gone in less than six months. It was inconceivable. Then I saw the family cards and letters. They all knew you needed a transplant, they all knew they should at least try, yet the letters and cards held nothing of promise. Self centered letters, self serving congratulations to themselves, and a tacit lie made to look like concern. Why is it today, when the world should be right, is it all so very wrong?

New advancements in medicine are made every day. I got a copy of the AAKP Renalife Magazine today, and once more read of the low risk of living organ donation, and the fact that living donors have a good quality of life, in spite of the misconceptions and misunderstanding of these facts. Perhaps I didn't do enough to educate them, but I know I tried. After all, they live in the "medical world" and consider themselves medical professionals.

I know it is too late for wishful thinking, but I know how different the world would be if you were here. I read about the latest research and results of familial transplants, and wish there had been another way for me to give you that gift of life. I wish we hadn't waited for their promises and excuses. I don't know if it would have made a difference, I do know that they never tried. Perhaps I was meant to find those letters and cards, to burn them, and to put this behind me for all time, but I feel the void so deeply, there is no way to put this away. You lived, you loved, you were here. Never would you have been so callous and unfeeling as to not do your damnedest to do the "right thing" to "step up to the plate" and as I read these long, drawn out missives of wonderful lives and dreams of others, I wonder if they ever feel the sadness of your loss? Do they admit they never tried? Or do they continue the lie to assuage themselves of the guilt they must surely feel. I will never put this "behind me" because you are still with me. You promised and I believe you keep that promise.

Happy Anniversary

Happy Anniversary darling. Yes, it is the day you and I decided to take our vows privately, only for us. Till death did us part, and now I sit and remember your love alone. Oh yes, they live their lives, but they will never have what we did, no matter how much they wish for that. Not even death stopped your love from shining through, your legacy remains. I have made more calls, I have participated in many studies, and I have done all I can to continue to tell your story. There were so many of them, and not one stepped forward. We cannot change that, but I can continue to remind the world, donate life. It may be someone you don't even know, but you will save a life. You did not have that choice, but perhaps the future holds promise for others. I will always love you.

The hawk is here again

How I wish you were here with us. Watching the wind whip through the trees, your hair blowing the curls every which way. I can picture you outside, strong and healthy. Before the sickness got you. Before you were exposed to something that would kill you. Before you had lost faith, lost hope. You were so full of life, love and laughter. Why? I keep asking the same question. No answers. No solace, no comfort. Only the void.

I see so many strangers, reaching out to their fellow man, yet I remember that you couldn't understand, nor could I, why you were denied hope. Oh there was false hope, offered with smiles and concern. It would never be. I wish there was an answer to your question. I wonder if your words meant anything to them?

I think you saw your grandson before he was born, in a place I cannot imagine. He is such a loving little boy. His life is a joy in my heavy heart. As if he knows who you were, he listens to me as I talk to him.He loves your music, and he stares at me with wise eyes as we sway to Million Roses. When I hold him under the trees you planted, and tell him about you, his little hand in mine, it feels as if you are standing there with us. I tell him how you would have loved him, and how you would be so happy to know that the trees shaded his little body from the bright sunshine, how someday, he will climb those very trees.

Then I saw the hawk...I remembered what you said. He circled us, swooping so low I could see his underbelly, then he climbed into the air, so free, and suddenly he was gone.

Three years ago you were in the hospital, and the news was not good. Your eyes had such love in them, you had held my hands in yours, and told me you were ok with what would happen. You knew, but I could not admit that your final journey was beginning. Suddenly, I'm here, alone. No one fills the void. I am loved, I know. I have been blessed because you were in my life, but it will never be enough. Not measurable in weeks or months, nor years.

Now there is only disbelief. I have your last words embedded in my heart. Carved with tenderness, they will remain there until I join you.

So to those that have read this blog, remember....if you have a chance to save a life, why would you turn away? It is not always easy, nor possible, but to have tried would not be in vain. It would be honorable.

There were so many of them....

It's like a movie reel

It plays on. This movie reel of your last days here with me. On and on, it won't stop. I don't want to remember that time, that pain, or the anger and hurt that pursued me for so long. I wonder if there is sadness that you are gone in the other worlds, in other lives. I know you are missed by those who loved you. They call, they ask if I am ok. I'm not, but what can I say? I'm alone and my life is forever changed. I guess they say time is a great healer, but I wish I knew how much time it takes. I can only think of what it was like, and how different it all is now. I miss you, husband mine. I talk of transplants and giving life to those who don't know about what happened to you, and I hope I am making a difference. You didn't die in vain. Others will step up to the plate, and lives WILL be saved.

If you are reading this because you happened upon this site, please become a donor, become someone that makes a difference. Read the history of my husband's illness and death, and help others live. Wether it is to donate blood, sign a donor card, volunteer to drive a dialysis patient, cancer patient, whatever you can do. It truly will be appreciated.

On June 3, 2008, my beloved husband died in my arms, surrounded by those who loved him. His legacy and love live on.

Spring

I met a lovely woman and her husband...she a transplant recipient, he a loving partner. She, grateful for her gift, he, full of love and compassion. For each gift, for each uplifting moment that I have, I thank God that there are so many unselfish people out there. Oh we need more, certainly, and we need to get the word out that the gift of life is one of the most wonderful things you can do for another. Take what you need when I am gone. Give it to someone who can use it. I have no need of it where I am going.

I wish you were here. I wish that your life had not been so abruptly torn from me. I cannot change the past. I can only fulfill my promise to you. You did not die in vain, and each person that I speak with will know a little more about the gift. Each person will know how you had to leave, but they will be lifted up by the knowledge that your legacy lives on. They are inspired in the knowledge that each and everyone of us has to step up to the plate, because for each of us, there is but one chance.

I miss you terribly. I don't know if it is the budding trees that you planted, the promise of flowers, the birds who sing me awake? You were not hateful, you were devastated. You accepted your fate, but you promised me too. You promised, and I hold you to it. Yes, you left too soon, but you are here, in each gentle breeze, in each raindrop. You are here at the moment I need you.  I believe that our hearts are forever intertwined.