Yesterday’s hospital visit was as joyous as the birth of a new baby. Someone has received a long-awaited kidney transplant! What a great joy, as the 28 months on the waiting list have culminated in successful surgery and the promise of renewed life.
And yet we were all aware that the joy in that hospital room is countered by sorrow in another hospital room. All we know about the donor is the approximate age and the cause of death; a heart attack in someone too young. We don’t know the gender, race, occupation, or anything else about the person whose kidney is giving new life in my friend.
In spite of the lack of factual information, I realize that I do know a lot about the donor. I know that he or she cared enough about other people to sign the organ donor side of their license plate. Perhaps she or he had not actually signed, but had lived life in such a way that the family members were able to say with confidence, “Yes, that’s what they would have wanted.” This was a person who lived life openly and honestly, so that the family would be able to make such a self-giving decision. This person knew that the body is just temporary housing, and that, when we’re done with it, it might help others. Even though their heart failed them, it was big enough to share other organs with many different people around the region. Their grieving family found, I pray, a glimmer of hope in knowing that their loved one was giving life to others.
If you haven’t signed the back of your driver’s license yet, do so. Make sure your family knows what you want. I saw a miracle yesterday in a hospital room, I really did.
