"So what does the green bracelet stand for?"
This is a question I have been asked many times since I have worn my DONATE LIFE bracelet every single day since John's wake. I wear it when I dress up, dress down, in the shower, in the pool, during a game, and when I sleep. I wear it as a reminder of the ultimate gift John was able to give to so many others. I wear it with pride for my big brother.
Nonetheless, just like most things in life, this one simple piece of green plastic gives me
conflicting emotions. I am happy and proud of my brother's gift to numerous other human beings but I am sad that it was given at the ultimate sacrifice -- the fact that others are given years to spend with the ones they love but only because we all have to wait a lifetime to see John again. However, life is amazing.
As many of you know, I have recently started my life as a graduate student in Ithaca, New York. The first few days of class were full of ice breakers and story sharing in order to get to know my peers. One classmate asked me what my green bracelet stood for and when she found out, she showed me her right wrist that wore the exact same bracelet. She said proudly and thankfully that her father just received a lung transplant within the last year and she was so grateful that her father, who was an otherwise healthy man in his forties with a rare lung condition, was a successful transplant. Although he is still in the recovery phase, he has been able to enjoy life with his family again.
Although I did not explain to her John's story at that time, we had a chance to hang out the following night. I was able to explain to her and others who were listening all about John's tale of tragedy and delight. I was able to explain his passion for his family, his work, and his life. But the best part of all, I got to listen more about the impact that John, and everyone who donates organs to others, has on the organ recipients and those who love them. It is one thing to read in a letter about the the receiving patients and their appreciation; but it is much more rewarding to actually sit down and talk to a fellow female of the same age who experienced the actual joy and thrill of the life donation.
If life was not remarkable enough, the fellow student also applied to Springfield College, my other choice of graduate school. Although I was thinking it, she remarked that it must have been fate that we would meet at graduate school. So I end this surprising tale with one of my favorite quotes: "You may not end up where you thought you were going to be, but you always end up where you are meant to be."