Taylor's Gift by Tara Storch Page A

back down in her arms and cried.
    Our family was completely supportive. When we said yes, they said, “Good, good.” When we said no, they said, “We understand, that’s okay.” When Tara started shaking because she was cold, someone grabbed a blanket for her, and when I couldn’t speak, one of her brothers brought me a glass of water. Their presence made it easier for us to make some difficult decisions.
    After a few more questions, Myrna was finished.
    â€œSo, what happens next?” I asked.
    â€œI’ll give you periodic updates by phone. After the initial organ placement, you’ll receive some written communication, and if you want to connect with the organ recipients—”
    â€œWe’re definitely going to want to connect,” I said.
    â€œSo you can submit the paperwork, then it will be up to them. Let me just say, not all recipients want to connect. There are procedures that must be followed, and there are some time limits involved—”
    â€œThat’s fine, but we’ll want to connect,” Tara said.
    â€œOkay. We’ll send you the paperwork, and you can write a letter. Just make sure there isn’t a lot of personal contact information in it. All of the communication needs to go through us. And, of course, there is no guarantee that you’ll receive a response.”
    Myrna was doing everything she could to set low expectations. She didn’t want us to get our hopes up of meeting the recipients.
    But our hopes were already up.
    Knowing that Taylor’s organs would help other people was the only thing that would allow us to make sense of Taylor’s death.

    By default, I was the funeral planner. I spent time on the phone with Mary Marshall and Father Fred, organizing funeral plans and making decisions. Bill was back at the hotel working on flight arrangements for the next day. He knew we wanted, needed , to be home as soon as this was all finished. I spoke with Matt and Beth in Paris and told them to head back to Dallas; we’d meet them there. No point in them coming to Colorado, as we would be leaving the next day.
    Earlier in the day I had tweeted: “Words cannot begin 2 explain our sorrow, sadness & helplessness. God gave us Taylor for < 14 yrs. To know her, or of her, is a blessing.”
    People were responding to my tweet with comments, questions for more information, and most of all with prayer. Someone started a Facebook page, and by that evening, seven hundred people had joined to pray for Taylor and us. Now that we were back in Taylor’s hospital room, I wrote another tweet: “Tara (Taylor’s mother) and I are overwhelmed with love from near and far. Thank you.”
    After our family members visited with Taylor one last time, they left for the hotel. Tara and I planned to stay at the hospitalwith Taylor. Though we knew she was already gone, we also knew it would be the last few hours we would have with her. Later that night, a priest came in to talk and pray with us. I also spent some time reading my Bible. Romans 8:28 hit me particularly hard: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” It was fresh hope, and I clung to it with all my faith.
    About that time, my client in Vail called. He was the publisher of the local Vail newspaper, and he’d been kind enough to let us stay in his corporate condo while we were on vacation.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Todd. I just heard what happened.”
    We talked for a few minutes, then his tone changed a bit.
    â€œHey, listen. There’s going to be stuff written about this. It’s a huge story here, and the community is going to want to know more about what happened. As the publisher, but more importantly as your friend, I want to make sure we get the details right and we describe Taylor correctly.” He paused and then said, “You don’t have to tell me