Transplantation

Every organ transplant has a donor and a recipient. In some cases, the donor only sacrifices an organ, or part of one. In others, they are donors because they have lost everything, and a family has made a decision. In both cases, an organ is harvested, then transplanted into the recipient. Then the work begins.

With organ transplant, there are a team of doctors, nurses, and other medical professions that are there around the clock to insure that the transplanted organ survives – that the recipient survives. With family transplant, there’s mom.

When a family gets transplanted there are no anti-rejection drugs. There are no teams of professionals standing by to help at the earliest sign of failure or distress. There are no text books to follow, no IVs, no articles written in the Journal of American Medicine. When a family gets transplanted, a mom gets to administer the anti-rejection kisses. She gets to give hugs at the earliest sign of distress. She gets to wish that there were text books to follow or articles in Ladies’ Home Journal that would explain the best practices for a successful transplant. But she’s left to her own devices – to survive by her own wit and wisdom.

Our family? We were transplanted often. There were always new schools, new houses, new friends, new fears. There were always the wonderings of what this new place would be like. Would we fit in? Would our pets be OK with the move? How long would we be here? Was it OK to lay down roots? If we did, would they take hold?

We moved because of dad’s work. A work that I didn’t really understand until I was an adult. Dad’s work took us from Indiana to Massachusetts to Missouri back to Massachusetts and finally to New York. All by the time I was ten years old. Small wonder that one of us would ask how long we would be staying in a new house, or ask after a year if it was time to move again.

It’s hard for kids to move. They build their whole world around a relatively small universe: the classroom, the house, the neighborhood (but only as far as you could ride your bike). If it wasn’t a part of those three things, it didn’t matter much to us. If it was a part of those three things, then it was everything. Basically every few years we lost our lives – the everyday living that we had come to know. To a child – total devastation. To a mom – work beyond imagination.

Our mom was always there for us during those moves. Not only did she pack and reassure that “Yes, Cathy Quick Curl can come, too,” and “no, there are no ghosts in the new house,” and “yes, I promise you’ll make friends there,” and “Santa always knows where you are on Christmas Eve,” but she also dealt with all those fears that no one even really knew how to or were able to voice. No, we might never see certain friends again. No, we might never come back to this town. Yes, that existence was over – now a memory. Yes, it was scary. No, there was no real need to fear. Yes, mommy would be there with us every step of the way.

Our mom knew the art of the transplant. She knew how to keep a family a family, no matter where they next planted their roots. She was the queen at keeping us connected – to each other, yes, but also to our family at large – the many aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. Our mom was the transplant queen.

I don’t think I ever really thought about all mom sacrificed in those moves. With dad gone all the time for work, she was alone – a lot – with three small kids, and a German Shepherd. And this was before cable TV. Or cell phones. Or email. Or microwaves. Our mom made three meals a day. Our mom cleaned the whole house. She kissed the boo boos, hugged the stuffin’ out of us, and tucked us in every night. She taught us to pray. She taught us to stand up for ourselves. She taught us humility.

My mom taught me when to be silent – and when to sing.

My mom taught me that it’s OK to love – even when you’ve been hurt.

My mom taught me that no matter where you live – you’re loved.

My mom still teaches me – all time. Patience. Perseverance. Truth. Caution. Heroism.

My mom’s the best transplant team a kid could ever need.