“Care about others as much as you care about yourselves."
~ Philippians 2:4
One week ago my best friend was involved in a terrible car accident
on her way to a high school wrestling match.
The doctors tried to prepare us for how she’d look . . . but no words
could ever have described how Brandi appeared when we walked into the ICU. My beautiful
friend, so intelligent and musically gifted, who’d go off to college in the
fall on a full scholarship, now lay motionless and barely recognizable. The sadistic whoosh of a ventilator softly
mocked us. An array of lights danced purposefully
on the monitor's screen.
Six days ago we
were shocked to learn that Brandi had suffered irreversible brain damage; a
condition that worsened as her brain continued to swell. I quickly learned the significance of cranial
pressure measurements. As each hour went
by, I dreaded looking up at the rising numbers; yet I feared not doing so either. She was in as deep a coma as one could be.
Five days ago, after
friends and family said their good-byes for the day; I stayed in the room with Brandi. I talked to her. I sang old, familiar hymns to her. I told her how much we loved her and how special
she was. I rested my head gently on her
chest, listening to the beat of a heart that lived too short a life. It all went too fast before it was time to
leave the room . . . forever.
Four days ago Brandi
died. The hospital waiting room was
filled with teenagers, parents and her church family. Their love and support
was very comforting - proof that Brandi had touched so many lives during her
short 18 years and that her family would get the help they needed from all of
us in order to heal. That day, her
family learned something about Brandi they’d never known: she’d registered as
an organ donor. Doctors explained that her
decision meant that her young heart would be used to save another’s life.
Three days ago I
heard that a nine year old boy named Nathan received Brandi’s heart.
Today Nathan’s
family invited me to meet him. With
someone else’s heart beating in their son’s body, the parents’ joy was tempered
by intense sorrow for Brandi’s grieving loved ones. They knew that Nathan’s second chance had come
at an incalculable emotional cost for them.
They offered me a stethoscope so that I could hear my
friend’s heart beating powerfully in Nathan’s chest. Nathan, who first suffered heart failure at
age 6, smiled, then whispered to me that since he had been given my best
friend’s heart, he’d be my best friend now too! J
Lord God, who loves us from life to death
and back to eternal life, inspire us to do the same for one another. Give to me a virtuous heart, which no evil
intention can divert. Give to me a
constant heart, which no pain can crush.
Amen
