They called his time of death and at some point in the midst of the swirl of nonsensical, chaotic minutes that passed, we were told matter of factly that our son had no viable organs to donate.
We brushed it off. We were clearly not surprised. A child with a patched up heart that had stopped numerous times and lungs that had been forced to work by my own hands, well of course his organs were of no use.
But what about that heart? Was it truly of no value to anyone? Surely someone needed a heart like that one.
You know, that tiny, scarred, battered heart. The one that reached into mine and made it stronger. A heart that knew nothing but love and joy. A heart that fought hard when everything seemed impossible.
What about you? Would you take a heart like that?
Do you need an organ donor? Because I have a beautiful heart to pass on. And guess what? It’s not first come, first serve. There is no pecking order.
You see, I cannot explain how one tiny heart has left such an incredible impact on the world. But it has.
So don’t let that perfectly beautiful heart go to waste. I’m his momma and I tell you, that heart is viable for transplant. It’s a good heart. It beats on.
Take it. Don’t my son’s life become a distant memory if it has touched you in any way. Take it. Don’t forget it.
There aren’t many hearts out there like it.
It’s yours for the taking.
A perfectly viable organ.
My son. The organ donor.