Someone once commissioned me to explain the differing emotions families experience when involved in ‘the gift of life’ (organ donation). How do you properly capture the sentiment of such a powerfully emotional event? The deep agony and heartache endured by one family and yet, on the other side there must be joy and elation, mixed with some apprehension. For years, I have tried to sum it up without success because there simply are no mere words in the modern dictionary to sum it up. But, because I am a parent of a donor, here is my best attempt.
Easter best sums it up. Imagine on Good Friday, two thousand years ago, how God the Father must have felt when He looked down at His Son, Jesus, being tortured, beaten, and mistreated, just so we could have a relationship with Him. The Father signed off on His Son so all the Universe could have the gift of eternal life. It was so painful God the Father turned away. It is my belief God choose to do what had to be done, regardless of how much it would cost, knowing that some would reject his gift, He did it anyway, even though we did nothing to be worthy of such a gift.
If you have the ability to save a life within your grasp or increase the quality of someone’s life, you should do it. Take the opportunity to give in such a way that you cannot be thanked, like the God the Father gave us through Jesus on Good Friday. Give where there are no mere words to thank you, just simply because if you were the parent of a child who needed that organ you would want someone to do the same for you. As I write this, it still hurts when I think of the pain it caused my family and I to give, but I take some comfort now in the fact that another family did not have to mourn that day because of my daughter’s precious gift. To this day, I still marvel at the strength my wife displayed in honoring my decision despite the pain it personally caused her.
Actually, what drove me most to allow my daughter to be donor was she loved to give and I believed she needed to leave with dignity doing something she loved. I had chosen to be an organ donor on my driver’s license for years before the accident and believed so much in it that if it was good enough for me it was good enough to allow my daughter to do the same.
The gift of life, for me, at least ultimately, is all about getting an opportunity to help another human being, although there is no guarantee that the organs will even take. So, we need not lose heart if the recipient’s body rejects the organs. Life is messy and doesn’t always work the way we would like. As a donor’s parent I don’t want to put undue pressure on those who receive organs that can be an overbearing weight. I never met my daughter’s recipients, in part, because they have the right to live their life without pressure from me.
One day I hope to find the words to express my sincere thanks when I see my Savior face to face. Maybe I will have no mere words, but at least I can simply mouth a thank you. Until that day, I hope to live my life in such a way to show my eternal gratitude for what the God of the Universe did for me and all of us that remarkable weekend so many years ago.
“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.” ~ Voltaire
Swavel
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Wedding
This week is particularly bittersweet because it marks what would be my daughter, Alisha’s, 18th birthday. Although, she is not here, I have discovered it is best to choose to be happy for her where she now resides. Read further and you’ll see what I mean.
As any father can attest, the idea of your daughter’s wedding is tremendously bittersweet. Alisha’s day had arrived. She had given her heart to another man and it wasn’t long after he asked her to stay with him forever.
She was too young, I thought, along with so many other reasons why she was not ready. Truthfully, I was the one who was unprepared for the changes about to take place. It was undeniably painful, but I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way for this was the beginning of something beautiful for her.
There are so many moments I would miss and countless memories to cherish. Gone were the days when she would greet me, as I would come home from work. I could picture those mischievous blue eyes and her untamed tawny-brown hair, tousled from yet another day of child’s play. I would miss our spontaneous car ride conversations, our evening walks, and the nights I would gently hug her until she drifted off to sleep. These simple pleasures of everyday life had become memories all too soon. It wasn’t about me however, I had to think of her, her and the groom.
Accepting my relationship with my daughter would change was heart wrenching, but I took comfort in these special memories. Hesitant as I was to relinquish my position as the man in her life, I knew it was right and was willing. Every detail of the day is etched into my mind permanently and indelibly as if it were cut into stone.
In a quiet moment before the ceremony, she looked especially beautiful to me as I glanced down at her and summoned the courage to give her away. In that quiet time, I shared my heart with her, some secrets only a father can share with his princess.
The wedding was about to begin. Alisha was ready and as her Dad, I had to rise to the occasion. I managed to share a story and a song just for her, although it wasn’t a perfect performance. Tears were mingled with the words, but I knew she loved it just as it was. So, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I kissed her and simply said, "I love you, Alisha", as I gave her hand to the awaiting groom.
After the ceremony, I caught a glimpse of my daughter and the groom, with so many around them waiting to celebrate. She looked my way and waved to me as my little girl always did when she would ride on the train at the mall, with each pass. It was a rare glimpse of heaven.
Before the day was over, I was congratulated and comforted by the guests present for the wedding. I was preparing to leave when a gift was handed to me by one of her attendants. It was from my daughter. She had selected something special for me, from her heart to mine. The flood of emotions I thought I had restrained with such poise on this special day were now uncontrollable. She was now and would forever be my little girl.
As I revisit the events of the day, the bride was absolutely radiant as she had always dreamed she would be on her special day and the groom, he was impeccable. He loved her unconditionally and he would cherish her like no other could. Alisha’s groom gave her everything she could ever hope for; He gave her eternal life. My little girl was just seven years old the day I gave her hand to Jesus.
As any father can attest, the idea of your daughter’s wedding is tremendously bittersweet. Alisha’s day had arrived. She had given her heart to another man and it wasn’t long after he asked her to stay with him forever.
She was too young, I thought, along with so many other reasons why she was not ready. Truthfully, I was the one who was unprepared for the changes about to take place. It was undeniably painful, but I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way for this was the beginning of something beautiful for her.
There are so many moments I would miss and countless memories to cherish. Gone were the days when she would greet me, as I would come home from work. I could picture those mischievous blue eyes and her untamed tawny-brown hair, tousled from yet another day of child’s play. I would miss our spontaneous car ride conversations, our evening walks, and the nights I would gently hug her until she drifted off to sleep. These simple pleasures of everyday life had become memories all too soon. It wasn’t about me however, I had to think of her, her and the groom.
Accepting my relationship with my daughter would change was heart wrenching, but I took comfort in these special memories. Hesitant as I was to relinquish my position as the man in her life, I knew it was right and was willing. Every detail of the day is etched into my mind permanently and indelibly as if it were cut into stone.
In a quiet moment before the ceremony, she looked especially beautiful to me as I glanced down at her and summoned the courage to give her away. In that quiet time, I shared my heart with her, some secrets only a father can share with his princess.
The wedding was about to begin. Alisha was ready and as her Dad, I had to rise to the occasion. I managed to share a story and a song just for her, although it wasn’t a perfect performance. Tears were mingled with the words, but I knew she loved it just as it was. So, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I kissed her and simply said, "I love you, Alisha", as I gave her hand to the awaiting groom.
After the ceremony, I caught a glimpse of my daughter and the groom, with so many around them waiting to celebrate. She looked my way and waved to me as my little girl always did when she would ride on the train at the mall, with each pass. It was a rare glimpse of heaven.
Before the day was over, I was congratulated and comforted by the guests present for the wedding. I was preparing to leave when a gift was handed to me by one of her attendants. It was from my daughter. She had selected something special for me, from her heart to mine. The flood of emotions I thought I had restrained with such poise on this special day were now uncontrollable. She was now and would forever be my little girl.
As I revisit the events of the day, the bride was absolutely radiant as she had always dreamed she would be on her special day and the groom, he was impeccable. He loved her unconditionally and he would cherish her like no other could. Alisha’s groom gave her everything she could ever hope for; He gave her eternal life. My little girl was just seven years old the day I gave her hand to Jesus.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
White Out
Apparently, there is something wrong with me because yesterday I saw a chance of snow on the weather forecast and it caused me to sigh. Whenever I see snow, I want to say I enjoy it, but instead I find it rather a nuisance.
When I was a kid, I used to love the stuff and the benefits it would bring, such as snow days. I lived for the moment; you know the one, when the radio announcer would call out your school’s name so you could have the day off. Few feelings can compete with the moment of elation a snow day brings, if, just for a moment.
Unfortunately, I no longer feel the same love for snow, but rather a disdain for it. I believe it stems from the fact that now it causes me the work of shoveling it, to be precise, a whole 100 foot worth of driveway and then some. Not to mention after the shoveling, the accompanying pain in my back, shoulders, and other parts of my body that hurt. Then, there is the hazard of driving in it. No offense to my fellow human being, but snow tends to bring out the idiots, me, being one of them at times.
Perhaps, my dislike started years ago when I was about nineteen, and just learning to drive. There was an inch of slush on the road and my dad offered to take me and my girlfriend to Burger King, but I blew him off. I was a grown-up and could do it myself. An hour later, I wasn’t feeling so grown-up when I panicked, and locked up the brakes of my 1975 Dodge Dart slidding off the road into some brush. To make matters worse, a complete stranger offered to pull me out with his pick-up truck, but couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t tear off my bumper. And if that wasn’t enough, when my girlfriend and her sisters found out about my dilemma, they couldn’t stop laughing. I can still here it now, “you did what?!”
Maybe snow isn’t the problem here at all, maybe I am. Snow, in its basic form is harmless and almost mystical, as it falls majestically from the sky. Since I can’t get rid of it, I’ll just have to learn to deal. Perhaps, the greatest lesson I believe we all can learn from snow is this: if you can’t control it, at least you can make snow men out of it.
“A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.” ~ Carl Reiner
Swavel
When I was a kid, I used to love the stuff and the benefits it would bring, such as snow days. I lived for the moment; you know the one, when the radio announcer would call out your school’s name so you could have the day off. Few feelings can compete with the moment of elation a snow day brings, if, just for a moment.
Unfortunately, I no longer feel the same love for snow, but rather a disdain for it. I believe it stems from the fact that now it causes me the work of shoveling it, to be precise, a whole 100 foot worth of driveway and then some. Not to mention after the shoveling, the accompanying pain in my back, shoulders, and other parts of my body that hurt. Then, there is the hazard of driving in it. No offense to my fellow human being, but snow tends to bring out the idiots, me, being one of them at times.
Perhaps, my dislike started years ago when I was about nineteen, and just learning to drive. There was an inch of slush on the road and my dad offered to take me and my girlfriend to Burger King, but I blew him off. I was a grown-up and could do it myself. An hour later, I wasn’t feeling so grown-up when I panicked, and locked up the brakes of my 1975 Dodge Dart slidding off the road into some brush. To make matters worse, a complete stranger offered to pull me out with his pick-up truck, but couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t tear off my bumper. And if that wasn’t enough, when my girlfriend and her sisters found out about my dilemma, they couldn’t stop laughing. I can still here it now, “you did what?!”
Maybe snow isn’t the problem here at all, maybe I am. Snow, in its basic form is harmless and almost mystical, as it falls majestically from the sky. Since I can’t get rid of it, I’ll just have to learn to deal. Perhaps, the greatest lesson I believe we all can learn from snow is this: if you can’t control it, at least you can make snow men out of it.
“A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.” ~ Carl Reiner
Swavel
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