I have been planning to publish a post about organ donation for a long time, even since before Kallie passed away. I have however just not found the right words. I have researched the topic extensively, asked a lot of questions from a lot of people, yet it never seemed the right time. I then stumbled upon the following on the Organ Donor Foundation of South Africa's Website and there it was - exactly what I wanted to say.I can only ask that you to read this carefully, maybe even more than once and to let this speak to your heart. The man I still love with all my heart and soul "lay upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying." He had a heart that had "caused nothing but endless days of pain." He ran out of time, waiting for the ultimate gift, the gift of life ...
"The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying. At a certain moment a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and that, for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped.
When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of machines, and don't call this my death-bed. Let it be called the Bed of Life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives. Give my sight to the man who has never seen sunrise, a baby's face or love in the eyes of a woman. Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain. Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, that he might live to see his grandchildren play. Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk. Explore every corner of my brain. Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that, someday, a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her windows. Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers to grow. If you must bury something, let it be my fault, my weaknesses and all prejudice against my fellow men. Give my sins to the devil. Give my soul to God. If by chance you wish to remember me, do it in a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all that I have asked, I will live forever."
When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of machines, and don't call this my death-bed. Let it be called the Bed of Life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives. Give my sight to the man who has never seen sunrise, a baby's face or love in the eyes of a woman. Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain. Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, that he might live to see his grandchildren play. Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk. Explore every corner of my brain. Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that, someday, a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her windows. Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers to grow. If you must bury something, let it be my fault, my weaknesses and all prejudice against my fellow men. Give my sins to the devil. Give my soul to God. If by chance you wish to remember me, do it in a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all that I have asked, I will live forever."
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