I just read and watched this story: Heart Transplant Sparks Romance Between Donor's Sister and Recipient. While parts of it are a bit overly dramatic, like the music and some of the narration, I still couldn't help being touched by it. I was touched because I can completely understand the connection the young woman mentions in the video, but in a different way.
What my family has gone through over the years with my
brother's repeated cancers and related health issues has left its mark on my
life. There is this stereotype of macho
men comparing scars as a competition between men, or showing scars off to
impress others. When I think of scars, I
don't think of a physical mark left behind as a visual reminder. I think of marks left on the soul, emotions,
intellect, and heart. These are the
marks that mean the most. I have a few
scars on my body. They are trifling
things that have no bearing on how I live my life now, other than a helpful
reminder of how not to do something.
Yet, the marks from Jonathan's struggles endure, they are woven into my
very being. I cannot forget them, nor do
I attempt at forgetting them. Yet, they
aren't the kind of scars that I bandy about to prove myself, win admiration, or
use as a light talking point. These scars
are nearly sacred because they have become a part of me. I have respect for myself, so it would be
very disrespectful to treat one part of myself with due respect and not the
other. That’s how I look at my
scars. It’s very important to understand
my perspective on these particular scars because otherwise, you wouldn’t
understand what comes next.
When I was young, pre-teen through young teen, I understood
on my own that I could only marry a person who understood these scars, treated
them with respect, and could face the future with them. And before all that, this person had to be
someone I felt comfortable even sharing these scars with. Having that realization at a young age was
pretty life-changing in that it gave me a solid direction and conviction when
it came to the later years of dating and beyond. From that point on I never considered a
person as datable unless he met a few very important qualifications, and one of
those being an understanding of the cancer scars in my life. I never set down specifics, such as the
person must be a cancer survivor or a cancer sibling. Yet, that’s exactly what God brought into my
life with my husband. We met because of
cancer, because we had cancer siblings.
Our cancer experiences have been completely different, but it’s still a
connection, a part of life that we understand about each other. Without cancer our spheres would never have overlapped.
In this way, I understand the connection between the two in
the story. I understand the donor
perspective, though my donation did not require my death. I understand the importance from the medical
perspective of requiring the perfect match for transplants. I understand that perfect connection between
two hearts and two people who can bond over something so tragic, so scaring, yet move past
it into something beautiful and healthy.
I also understand how rare all of this is, how cherished it should be.
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