Three months of sunny darkness

We have been struggling hard this week, but nothing was bringing relief. I looked at the date today and it suddenly dawned on me. Three months ago we were awoken after ninety minutes of sleep and given the news. Dr Marthy was factual, he even suggested cutting the top of Sara’s skull off to reduce the pressure of the swelling, I remember asking him why when even the deepest part of her brain is showing signs of extensive damage. Jason was silently staring into the the black hole that had just opened in this room, suspended in time and space. Right now we know know that this cosmic event had changed us, our perception of time and space, reality itself. The black hole opened again on Thursday that week when Sara was pronounced clinically brain dead. That day is written on her death certificate. But she “lived” for another sixty hours or so. It was a gift of time to say goodbye, we received this time in a trade for her organs. I was upset that her lungs will be wasted, but the wonderful counselor from the BC Transplant agency simply replied; “they are not wasted, they couldn’t be used, there is no eight year old child with this blood type on this continent that needs those lungs. Be glad that nobody needs them…”
She was right, I needed that reminder, because being too close to the black hole distorts our vision for sure.
We have to remind ourselves her organs are still alive. Her heart is beating in someone else’s chest, their parents get to hug that warm soft body of their precious child. I’m happy for their happy ending. That feeling makes hugging empty space little easier, usually, but not today.