cinema_babe: (Bandaged Heart)
[personal profile] cinema_babe
346 days.

Once upon a time I met a man. We had been reading each other’s blogs, and realizing that we lived close to each other, made a date. That was the beginning of a lusty, passionate fling. Neither of us wanted to commit to a future. Until one day I looked up to see him staring at me and I started crying because we both knew that things had gone from a fling into being in love with each other. No relationship is perfect but some are good and this was good.

I'll just jump to the end. On a Tuesday he threw a blood clot which caused a stroke. Wednesday night he had another, more devastating stroke and the damage was too great. He was declared brain dead by one doctor and in 24 hours after another doctor confirmed the diagnosis he would be removed from life support.

I stayed with him all night I holding his hand and talking to him about the vacation we had put a down payment on, the memories we had made. I finally left about 8am the next morning with only 346 days of memories.

What’s a girl to do?

346 wonderful, lusty, funny, exciting, comforting loving days. Today is 7 years since he died. 7 years.

I believe that things that happen aren't good or bad but that it’s what we do with it that matters. My love was an organ donor. In his death people were able to see again, 2 dying people got kidneys. In his death other people were given such great gifts.

Every March I ask all of my friends and readers to do something that is difficult for many people: make arrangements to donate your organs; discuss your wishes with your loved ones and encourage them to do the same.

**Parents, I ask you to do the most difficult thing of all: sit down with your co-parent and discuss organ donation if the unthinkable befalls your child.**

If you are racial or ethnic minority this is even more important as too many minorities die waiting for an organ. Go to “Donate a Life” for more information, including the position of most major religions on organ donation.

I don't think about him every day anymore, but I remember the day I met him and how I learned that I can love and be loved. Time did help to heal the wound of losing him but the scar will always be there; a small divot in the lawn that the grass has grown over and only I know it’s there.

I’m begging you to please have that conversation. Thanks.
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