A Life Everlasting by Sarah Gray Page B

four years earlier had given a little girl he’d never met her future. What was perhaps more remarkable was the way the surviving children seemed to understand their bond. Walker was an energetic little boy who happily roughhoused with his little sister. But when Walker and Cambrie were together, he was extremely gentle with her—not just that he seemed to understand that she remained a physically delicate little girl, but that there was something special about her. “He’s so good with Cambrie. With his sister, it’s a different story,” Kiara said.
    And Cambrie put her chubby arms around Walker, hugged him hard, and told him she loved him. She was too young to understand their connection, but it appeared she felt it at some level.
    â€œHow blessed are we as the donor family to be able to watch Cambrie grow up!” Jodie said. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
    Eli’s pulmonary valve was the kind of donation that can be safely stored in cryopreservation for up to five years. If a tissue is not requested by a physician in this time, Cryolife may provide these life-saving tissues for humanitarian use in the United States and abroad and forgo the standard reimbursement of recovery fees. The McGinleys learned that Eli’s pulmonary valve was shipped to the Dominican Republic in November of 2015 as a part of this program, called CryoKids. This valve was remarkably small, which made it less likely to find an exact size match for a transplant. However, a surgeon in the Dominican Republic was able to use Eli’s tissue as a patch on the heart of nine-year-old Luis Angel Mercado on April 15, 2016. A photo of Luis and his family was shared with the McGinleys.
    Six-year-old Walker looked at the photo of Luis and said, “Wow, how many times is my brother going to save a life? He’s a hero.”

C HAPTER S IX

    Transplant Envy
    T he Washington Regional Transplant Community—a federally funded organ-procurement organization, or OPO—has, like many OPOs around the country, a dedicated donor-family support program that can continue for two years after a loved one’s gift has been made. WRTC sends regular mailings about grief and loss, and proffers invitations to bereavement seminars and support-group meetings. These meetings are not exclusive to donor families, however; it is part of WRTC’s charter to include anyone in the community who would like to attend, donor family or not.
    In October 2010, Ross and I were invited to WRTC’s Donor Family Grief Retreat. The retreat was held in a large conference room at the WRTC offices, making the atmosphere almost like a business meeting, with fancy sandwiches, snacks, and a Keurig coffee machine.
    At the beginning of the retreat, the group leader asked us—there were about twenty-five attendees—to introduce ourselves and talk about whom we were grieving.
    It was an eye-opening roll call:

    â€œMy name is Linda. My daughter, Jennifer, died of a gunshot wound. Her organs saved the lives of six people. We received a few letters from the recipients.”
    â€œI’m Sondra. My daughter, Felicia, died last year. She was a single mom, and she leaves behind her son, Daniel, who has special needs. I am taking care of him now, and he really misses her a lot. We all do. We donated her heart valves. She saved one life that we know of so far.”
    â€œHi, everyone. I’m Marian. My daughter, Jessica, died in a car accident. She was twelve years old. We donated both lungs, her liver, and both kidneys. She saved the lives of four people.” Marian’s mother paused to compose herself. Then she said, “We received two letters of thanks.”

    I froze. But the stories continued.

    â€œMy name is Dave. My baby, Hannah, died in childbirth. My wife couldn’t handle it, and six months later she committed suicide and donated tissue. So I am grieving two people.”

    As the stories continued