A dance between grief and gratitude: What I learned about organ donation after my husband’s sudden death
When Christopher passed away unexpectedly, his wife Sarah was faced with impossible grief — and a life-changing decision. In this deeply moving personal testimonial, she shares what it was like to say yes to organ donation in the midst of heartbreak.
On September 2, 2022, my sweet husband Christopher surprised me at our wedding by singing to me during our first dance. He held me, he kissed me, and he sang to me. Only 80 days later I held him, kissed him, and sang to him as he lay in the operating room.
November 16, 2022 was a day that forever changed my life. My husband suffered a massive stroke near his brain stem, and there was no chance of survival. I had no idea what his end-of-life wishes were. I knew that he hated going to the doctor, that needles made him pass out, and that he wanted to be buried in the same veteran’s cemetery as his dad. I also knew that he was incredibly generous. Christopher was kind, sacrificial, and fully lived as Jesus called his followers to live: by loving others as they love themselves. When I was asked to consider organ donation, it didn’t take me long to say “yes.” I didn’t know at the time if he was a registered donor or not, but I did know his heart for loving others.
With that one decision, a weight came off my shoulders because I didn’t have any other big decisions to make about his care during his final days. During the intake process with dear Kriston with LifeSource, a couple of his closest friends and I got to share all about Christopher. Kriston’s gentleness and kindness as we talked lifted some of the heaviness of reality, even for a little while. It was a blessing to have four days in the hospital to share memories with visitors, to pray for his future organ recipients, and to begin grieving my sweet husband while I could still hold his hand and talk to him. The nurses – Ben, Maddie and Cheyenne – were so kind to me as they listened to my stories and allowed me to help care for him in those final days. I hadn’t anticipated how much that would mean to me after I became a widow.
Loving someone through their final breath on earth is incredibly gut-wrenching. I’ve also come to see the beauty in it. It’s a holy moment when a life spans heaven and earth by a mere breath. It’s a final gift of love you can give to someone who is leaving this world and entering the next. It’s a moment that will forever sever your life into two periods: a ‘before their death,’ and ‘after their death’ time period. And for the rest of your life, you will learn to dance between despair and thankfulness. You will move back and forth – sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly – between the tragedy of their death, and the beauty of their life. It’s an awkward dance of tension that all of us here will learn to do at some point.
Christopher was able to donate his kidneys, liver and corneas to bless five different people. His pancreas was donated for scientific research, and so far, there have been over 75 tissue grafts made with his bones, skin, ligaments and tendons. Unfortunately, his heart recipient fell through, and his lungs were deemed not viable once they were removed. My heart still hurts for those recipients and their families who received disappointing news that day.
I’ve only heard from one of my husband’s recipients. Though I would love to connect with more, I am grateful that the Fargo-Moorhead recipient community has welcomed me in. Hearing their stories and celebrating their lives has helped mend those gaps in my heart. I’ve also realized that we’re all experiencing the same dance between grief and gratitude. For organ recipients from deceased donors, it is not lost on them that they are alive because someone died. So, we may be wearing different shoes at this dance, but we dance together to ease the tension and experience joy.
In the days around the first anniversary of Christopher’s death, I experienced flashbacks, memories from the hospital looped through my mind, and on the anniversary of his stroke, I was – of all places – at a funeral for one of his good friends. It was an emotional couple of weeks. The second anniversary of his death was far different. I went to the LifeSource Donor Family Remembrance event. It was comforting to be able to share my loss and joy in the same moment with others who were also navigating this awkward dance. I don’t think I could carry the weight of grief without reasons to celebrate Christopher in his death.
Only 1% of registered donors meet the criteria at death to become a donor hero. That meant there was a 99% chance that I wouldn’t have reasons to celebrate my husband in his death. On that second anniversary, I realized that this dance of grief had become more familiar, and even comforting, in a way. What a joy it is to share about how wonderful my husband was when he was alive, but it’s also a joy to share about how he was a hero in his death. To be able to celebrate the gifts made in death is a blessing many people don’t have when they lose a loved one.