The True Meaning

I recently received an email from a friend of my son's heart recipient. It was brief, she had been thinking about me because it was the time of year when my Ben had died. She wasn’t sure if I still had the same email address, but sent it anyway, taking a chance I would still be on the other end. I was and thanked her for reaching out to me. I shared that it was hard to believe ten years had passed, but I was doing well.

She had referred to herself as a “former” friend of Ben’s heart recipient. In doing so, I felt a door had opened for me to tell her that I had not remained close with her either. I confessed that the two of us did not see eye to eye on some things, therefore, I chose not to be actively involved in her life.

Her response to me was lengthy, and it was not nice. She wrote a long email back to me recounting details of a thousand ways this person was awful. Reading it made me sick to my stomach. It rattled me. I felt like I had invited the devil in for a dance by making negative comments in the first place. I opened the door, not knowing what would come barging in as a direct result. I trusted this former friend and felt touched that she cared enough to check in on me after all these years. Now I’m not so sure. I feel like she was looking for an outlet to dump all of the negativity she had experienced and I was a good place to do so.

Do you want to know what I heard in between the lines?
“Your son’s heart recipient is a terrible person.”
“Your son’s heart recipient is evil.”
“Your son’s heart recipient is unworthy.”
“Your son’s heart recipient did not and does not deserve his heart.”

I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t get it out of my head because I invited her to the conversation and immediately became a pawn. A pawn in what I see as a scheme of the darkness. My own heart tells me to forgive her, and myself, this is truly the only thing that will release this grossly unsettled feeling left in my gut. Forgiveness is where I will rest because I believe that Ben’s heart recipient was chosen by God and not one person on this planet had any say so in the matter, only God did. Furthermore, a real life miracle occurred that caused Ben’s heart to end up in her chest.

Is the recipient worthy? None of my business. Is the recipient deserving? None of my business. Will I like the recipient? Doesn’t matter. Will the recipient possess the proper amount of gratitude according to “them”? Again, doesn’t matter. No amount of questioning or a hundred and one deplorable stories will not diminish the light of the true meaning of Ben’s life. Read all that again and let it sink in.

Here is the true meaning of Ben’s life. He chose, voluntarily, to sacrifice his life, not once, but twice. Once on the battlefield that would cost him his life and again upon his death, when his final wishes were honored to donate his organs, bone, skin and tissue to strangers. He directly saved the lives of four people with his heart, kidneys and liver. He enhanced the lives of nearly sixty more with the donation of his bone, skin and tissue. There were no strings attached. The only requirement was that the recipient be in need of what he was willing to give. That’s it. My son selflessly gave up his life so others could live, TWICE.

It has been said that the true measure of a person’s spirit is what you are willing to give when you know you may never be thanked. That is the true meaning of Ben’s life. He consciously knew this and followed his life purpose, irregardless. His life on earth ended where others began; with the gift of life, with the answer to a prayer difficult to pray. “Lord, I know that someone will have to die so that I can live, but this is my only hope. Amen.”

When honoring the final wishes of a loved one to become an organ donor, there is no three ring binder of bios to choose from. There are no pictures of the ethnicity, gender or age of the recipients from which to choose. The recipients are chosen based on need alone. Two of the four lives that Ben saved give credence to the belief in miracles. The heart is one and one of the kidneys, the other. Maybe all four were miracles?

The odds of designating a recipient for a heart are extremely rare, like getting struck by lightning rare.
The father of the young man who received one of Ben’s kidneys told me when we met in person five months later that the doctors had prepared his family for a three-month to a three-year wait before his son might receive a kidney. The call that a match had been found came only three DAYS later! He pounded his fist on the table with tears in his eyes when he recounted this to me.

The recipients of Ben’s organs crossed ethnic, age and gender lines. The oldest being forty years his senior, the youngest being six years his junior. One was female, two were African American. All were chosen by God. All were chosen based on need and perfectly matched criteria at the time of his death. None were chosen based on what kind of person they would become. They all got to become what Ben never would because of what he was willing to give up……..survivors!

I will no longer participate in conversation about who deserves what in this life. It is not ours to question or judge. My son’s life gave hope to strangers. My son’s life re-lit the flame of four candles that came very close to being blown out in this lifetime. Realistically, that number is ten, because he also saved the lives of six of his brothers in arms in the battle that cost him his own.

I feel betrayed for trusting a person that asked me how I am doing. I took the bait, innocently. I cannot point a finger and say that her motive was entirely malicious. She taught me a lesson and one I feel guilty for having to learn. There is always, always a light. No matter the situation, even in the darkest of darkness, the light will come through. Trust me. I know this better than most. I didn’t have to respond as I did, and I have promised myself I won’t do it again. I will stay in a place of grace and swim in the ocean of hope and healing that come when we don’t allow the darkness to overcome the light.

My Ben and I read several of Og Mandino’s books together when he was a pre-teen. I still have them and they remain amongst my favorites. From the Greatest Salesman in the World, published in 1968, Mandino wrote:

I will greet this day with love in my heart.
For this is the greatest secret of success in all ventures. Muscle can split a shield and even destroy a life, but only the unseen power of love can open the hearts of men and until I master this art I will remain no more than a peddler in the marketplace. I will make love my greatest weapon and none on whom I call can defend against its force. My reasoning they may counter; my speech they may distrust; my apparel they may disapprove; my face they may reject; and even my bargains may cause them suspicion; yet my love will melt all hearts liken to the sun whose rays soften the coldest clay.
I will greet this day with love in my heart.
Henceforth I will look upon all things with love and I will be born again. I will love the sun for it warms my bones; yet I will love the rain for it cleanses my spirit. I will love the light for it shows me the way; yet I will love the darkness for it shows me the stars. I will welcome happiness because it enlarges my heart; yet I will endure sadness because it opens my soul. I will acknowledge rewards because they are my due; yet I will welcome obstacles because they are my challenge.
I will greet this day with love in my heart.

These words struck me way back when and they do again today - they are words to live by. Mandino was a gifted writer.
As I lay in bed and couldn’t sleep with these thoughts weighing heavy on my heart, I was watching a show on Netflix. One of the characters had been shot. Due to lack of oxygen suffered from being injured, it was determined that he was brain dead. Two of his co-workers were at his bedside in the hospital. One of them wondered out loud how you say goodbye to someone you really care about. The other responded, “Just close your eyes and remember the good things.”
To that I say Amen. And that is where I will always rest, no matter how trusting and powerful the dark may appear, the light WILL ALWAYS WIN. Darkness can knock, but I will not be opening that door.

Tomorrow I am meeting a friend, one I have known since middle school. He is twenty-seven months post transplant from receiving a heart. I guarantee that no part of our conversation will be about darkness. Well, maybe we will talk about how we’ve endured it, yet only see the stars amidst its presence.

I will love the light for it shows me the way; yet I will love the darkness for it shows me the stars.