Today is my Birthday....

“You made it to another one” was my Brother Steve’s morning greeting. He is referring to my Birthday, and the fact that against all odds, I am still here. But rather than living, I feel more and more like I am existing. I have had a wonderful day. Relaxing. Filled with everything I would have ordered. A huge black forest B’Day cake fit for a queen and candles to boot. Alas I could not blow out my candles, all 4 of them, but my quick thinking Sister-in-Law Kirsteen grabbed a disregarded envelope and I waved the flames out. I was treated to a wonderful 3 course dinner and red wine hence I am now feeling like an over stuffed Christmas stocking and due to lovely fluid overload, looking like one too.

So how am I feeling, honestly? I am so exhausted, no there is no word for this amount of exhaustion. I cannot concentrate, though I did manage to do 3 hours of real work today, which made me feel productive. I am tired, I am sore, I cannot walk further than the front door and I am wondering just how much spirit is left. One foot in and one foot out I am doing the spiritual hokey pokey. How much can our physical bodies take? I wonder. Can I keep going on like this and for how much longer? Honestly, I am totally amazed how much the physical body can take, and even more amazed at the human spirit.

I met Mary during a stint in club med. There she was, sitting in the corner staring out the window day in day out. Sitting in her pajamas and dressing gown, physically she was here; spiritually she was far, far away. I could not but help go and talk with her. Within one hour I had heard all about Mary her life as Uni lecturer, her day’s travelling the world, her ex husband, her dog, her cleaner. Mary is not on the transplant list, Mary’s lost both her parents close together just on 2 years ago now and never having Children of her own she wishes to go to be with God. I respect her immensely.

I listened to Mary’s fears.

Now, one and a half years on Mary sends me little cards and presents of homemade preserves. She calls me to see how I am doing and she prays I get well. This Woman who is dying is praying I get well. I asked her why, why when she is so ill she prays for me. Mary said: “Sue, when I first met you, you sat with me for hours and listened to me talk. No-one has ever done that before”. I cannot help but wonder what this world has come to. Lovely Mary is so appreciative of an ear, just someone who is willing to listen to her. Mary doesn’t have long now so she is loading me up with preserves. God bless you Mary Toth.

I wonder what Mary is thinking, alone in her home she shared with her Mum and dad, just waiting, biding her time till she is back with them again. I wonder, I wonder.

But I do not fear, not today. Yesterday I was a little scared, but not today. Today is my Birthday.

I made it to another one.

Legacy of life, the most precious gift that one can give is life. By George John Bleich

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me.

It is easier to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, then to wait for the inevitable end when your life is in limbo hanging on a thread of hope. A hope that amongst the many the grim reaper may harvest this day, there will be one compassionate unknown kind stranger that could save your life. It would take a Legacy of life, a gift of their life sustaining organs for you to live. There are variables such as blood type, sizes etc. that influence selections of those who will receive the transplants and the odds become more complex. It is not uncommon for Cystic Fibrosis patients to be slightly more diminutive in size and there by require smaller organs, even those of a child.

Your Perfect match could be a child.

Susie, I recall you writing with compassion for those who would lose a love one and you would prefer to die than have someone die that you may live. All ages, and many people die every day. In their grief their Families do not think about how it’s through the miracle of transplant their love ones live on in an unique way. When parent have a child called to heaven to be at God's side, the pain and loss is unfathomable and intense. They have to be blessed with a special grace to understand that their child will give those in need new life. The receivers of the organs will become caregivers of their child's hearts, lungs and other vital organs. Their child's heart will beat again, their lungs will breathe again instead of being snuffed and suffocated, with embalming fluid. Their corneas could help someone see again. As a result of their Legacy of Life Gift of their vital organs your child becomes part of the Miracle that gives life. They live on in a far more viable way than trapped and disintegrating beneath the ground.

The challenges and temptations resisted while waiting.

With each passing day you feel your life ebbing like the outgoing tide. The pain comes with increasing frequency and intensity. You grow weaker every hour. It’s difficult to concentrate. Like a shipwrecked sailor you cling to the remains of hope, like a sailor would cling to the wreckage of a ship with remote hope that currents may wash you ashore to a new life. Medication for pain makes it difficult to write new entries in your Chronicles of the Chronically Dead, a diary of your possible final days.

You are alive but feel you have died a thousand times. Every minute, every hour, death masquerades as a friend promising you relief from your pain, anxiety and depression. The reaper tells you to give up. You have an innate God instilled respect for your life. It is a saving grace and it gives you the strength and courage to look death in the face without fear, and have the resolve and spiritual reserve to endure the pain and treasure each living moment, to press on, pray wait and hope. Your drawn closer to God who is no stranger to you. Knowing your time could be drawing near, you find comfort in a favorite prayer at the beginning of your blog, “And If I should die before I wake I pray to the Lord my soul to take." You have put your trust and life in Jesus' Name and in God's Holy Hands. There will be times when you cry silent tears, no one will see but God. They well up in your eyes; roll down your cheeks and inside your throat leaving you alone with the salty taste of silent tears, while you pray, wait and hope.

It's not your time to go; you have a responsibility to your God given gifts.

God has gifted you with many unique talents to use in his praise, to share your great love of him, your fellow man and yourself. There are scenes in your mind calling out to be painted. There are poems, stories and songs to write with the wisdom that come to the young who have faced death and with courage and have learned through experiencing many of life's lessons. You will write with appreciation of those who gave you the gift of the legacy of life. You need not write about them but you cannot help but be influenced and aware that they live on in you in a special way. If it is their lungs you will feel them expand when you breathe in deeply, if it is their heart, you will feel them in every pulse beat. Together you share the union and the miracle of transplants and new life.