Good evening, everyone... It is just now turning evening, after a day that began with a tortured phone call from Connie Pierre at 5:00 o'clock this morning and ended with a terribly sad farewell to Connie in the ICU waiting room, and her daughter, Stephanie, laying in a hospital bed in ICU waiting for the organ transplant surgeons to arrive from Seattle.
Somewhere in the presence of such profound sadness, I felt pressed all day long to heal the hurts, whenever possible, but most of all, to find any semblance of joy and cause to celebrate Stephanie's live so tragically cut short. My first moment of joy, perhaps mixed with surprise, came when I discovered Stephanie, bless her heart, was an organ donor. One has only to remember someone else is facing certain death without a organ transplant. Someone else would have died by this time tomorrow, but thanks to Stephanie, they will live another day. The decision of organ donation is one of the most difficult decisions facing anyone during a time of bereavement, but as someone who lives each day, who sees through a set of donated corneas, I am constantly thankful for the gift of sight, lent to me by a woman shortly after her death. So, from the perspective of Stephanie's family, this is a miserably haunting time of profound sadness. Viewed from this other perspective, however, this is a time of new birth, of renewal for someone for whom the gift of sight, or of another organ, will make all the difference to them between certain death and rebirth. That gift, of donor organs, is unquestionably both one of the most difficult and yet one of the finest gifts anyone can share with others. Standing inside the gates of awareness where I witnessed the unspeakable grief that consumed Connie and her entire family, of standing mute and dumb in the face of the loss of Stephanie whom I first met at age 17 in Othello, I also must stand tall and proud, to speak to the courage and love it takes to give the ultimate gifts of life and love to someone else at such a time. I must speak profoundly to the manner in which Connie's family rallied around her, uplifted her and sought to comfort her during what is most certainly a time of unspeakable agony for her and Charlie. I have been well-acquainted with such grief in my years of life, and although I have faced many of these horrible losses alone, bereft of close family ties, in the last decades I have been through many changes, including the certain knowledge that so long as I draw breath, I am responsible for seeing that no one ever faces such a horrible time alone, which is why I had to be there, today, to fulfill my self-assigned role to support and uplift others in their times of broken hearts. Along this self-ordained pathway, I have come to *trust* that others often will rise to the occasion, and today's lesson was an absolute fulfillment of that trust. I am speaking, of course, of Connie's son, Charlie, who drove up from Yakima to be at his mother's side when tragedy struck Stephanie and took her from our midst. One of Charlie's most prophetic statements, made standing outside in the faux-spring sunshine, was "Without Stephanie, I won't have anyone to talk to in the future about things that really matter to me." To take this young man, himself a victim of ritualistic drug and alcohol abuse, to transform him over the last few years into a young man who is dependency-free and a good father to his children, speaks volumes about courage. To forcefully, tearfully make such a statement about a sibling, speaks so well to how it takes vulnerability for all of us to overcome our hurts. So, once again, in the midst of sorrow and loss, being an intrepid voyager through the byways of our hearts, I found reassurance and joy; where others were grief-stricken to the point of being rendered speechless, I found unexpected and very wonderful gifts for my heart, and an affirmation of my belief that we each must often rise to the occasions which tear our hearts, to reach out to others in paths of compassion and a willingness to nurture those who have aching hearts. So tonight, to the spirit we once knew as Stephanie, I must give my thanks, for through the veil of death and sadness, she has given new hope and new life to others. To Connie and Charlie, my earnest emotion is that our prayers and orisons will guide you safely home, and that some of what Suzie and I have done this date will be a comfort to you both. Dave -- Dave Laird ([EMAIL PROTECTED]) The Used Kharma Lot Web Page: http://www.kharma.net updated 11/24/2004 Usenet news server : news://news.kharma.net Fortune Random Thought For the Minute Serving coffee on aircraft causes turbulence. _______________________________________________ Libnw mailing list Libnw@immosys.com List info and subscriber options: http://immosys.com/mailman/listinfo/libnw Archives: http://immosys.com/mailman//pipermail/libnw
