It’s been two months since Dot’s boyfriend passed away from failed kidneys and a donor heart. Two months of being fine until we hear a song that reminds us of him. See a photo of him on Facebook. Remember his laugh, his smile, his personality.
Dot just got her driver’s license. She passed the test last week. I’m so proud of her. And in his honor, she’s chosen to be an organ donor. I tried to talk her out of it when she applied for her permit last year. I don’t like thinking of the idea of her being gone. And letting her be a donor means accepting the possibility that someday, it could happen like that. She could be gone before I’m ready. Before she’s really lived.
But now he’s gone. And she’s still here. And while his is a painful loss that ripples our peaceful pond with its intermittent storms, I see more than his reflection in the murky waters. I see his potential. Still. In the sun that still shines. In the waves that carry us out and back in again to safety and security and comfort.
He is gone, but he is still with us.
Gone but not forgotten, they say. An infant once gave a heart, so that Loukas Fischer could have 17 more years on this earth. 17 years of growing up and laughing and being a boy and falling in love with my daughter.
And, God forbid, if something tragic should happen to Dot, she wants to return the favor to someone else.
It took his passing for me to realize what a wonderful gift she wants to give.
I’m so proud of her. And still so thankful for him.
Photo courtesy Nicole Jenkins Photo.
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.