Two years ago, our world stood still and my new heart started beating on its own in the quiet of the early morning. It would be a new beginning.

Two years that wouldn’t have been.
Two years of triumph and setbacks.
Two years of laughter and tears.
Two years of good days and bad.
Two years alive.

If you’ve followed along, you’ve witnessed our moments of triumph and our moments of defeat. But even those moments of defeat taught us yet again, the power of hope.

The physical challenges were numerous; the mental challenges were heavy and the spiritual lessons were hard but life-giving.

I learned that bad days are just as much of a gift as good days, when those days weren’t even promised before my gift was received. I learned that post transplant life is as much a life of sacrifice, as it is life giving. And I learned anger robs you of your hope, each day that you hold onto it.

To my donor-

Our heart has carried me through the most life giving days and through some of the hardest days of my life these past two years. In the quiet of our heart, it held grief for what life “should” have been and yet it also holds inexplicable joy and hope for what is to come. It held joy and sorrow, it held hope and despair. It held, disappointment and triumph. It held hurt and healing. It held hope.

I’d be lying if I said I was a happy camper 100% of the time. This year brought another round of c.diff, kidney failure, an auto-immune disorder and weight gain from more steroids and a body I no longer recognize. But I have a pretty awesome team, watching over our heart so we’ve been triumphant over ever challenge that came our way. And we’ve had zero rejection, baby!

Yesterday, your family was heavy on my mind. I wondered how they were doing as they grieved the second anniversary of your passing. I bet we had the same questions? What would you be doing? Where would your life have taken you these past two years? And I prayed that their grief would be less heavy, knowing a part of you lives on in this world.

I promise you this:

I promise to fight every challenge and setback.

I promise to celebrate every victory, big or small.

I promise to laugh a little more each day.

I promise to seek God.

I promise to take care of our heart everyday.

I promise to choose hope each day.

And I promise to remember you everyday of my life because Hope began with you.

And to my mother,

We did it. We made it another year. Oh, it seemed like we’d never get to this point, during all those late night ER visits.

No one gets the privilege to see how much you’ve loved beyond measure these past two years: from being my medication reminder, to errand runner, holder of things ;), meal maker and for helping me in so many ways, when fatigue takes over, you help heal my physical body. Always, willing to keep me company on the sleepless nights or the 1am meltdowns. But it’s what you do – wiping my tears, laughing until we cry, crying until we laugh, praying for me, encouraging and bearing hope, when all seems lost- that have helped heal my soul – spiritually and mentally.

I think back on all those late night and early mornings and I can always see you sitting in the chair at the side of my bed. Ready to pull out the Mama Bear card at any time, but instead there to be a comfort and companion to me.

I don’t know why God has asked us to walk this road. And I know we’ve both asked to peek at whatever roadmap he’s using, but one thing I know for sure, there is no one else I’d rather have as my companion for this journey. You hold me up when I am weak and point me to our Lord for continued hope and strength.

And to all of you, who have walked with us, thank you for your prayers, support and companionship on one of the most challenging paths we have ever traveled. Your witnesses have bore us hope, each day. And for that we are eternally grateful.

When we were waiting on my heart, we waited with prayerful expectation and hope and so today, we look forward with that same prayerful hope for what is to come. Because Hope wins, thanks to Jesus and a donor.

K

With love, K