Dragonfly

   I appreciate the space the last few days. It was an emotionally charged long weekend, though filled with love and support. The memorial open house event for life donor families where we got to see my husband's name on the wall in the healing garden, was done very well and I felt nurtured. My son and younger daughter chose to not do the open house, but visited on their own, at quiet times as it's available 24/7, 365 days a year. 

     I was glad I shared the invitation with his family, but also made sure to express I had no expectations. I hadn't really heard from anyone if they were coming. His mother, siblings, and members of their families did come, though at different times, overlapping for just part of it, but that was good. It gave both space and togetherness. My brother in law shared some very personal thoughts with my daughter the next day, as he hadn't really thought of what life donorship meant and that his brother was part of it. I think he also realized he and others in their family might have really pushed the end of the grieving process, clouded by the "we must move on and keep living" sentiment. I don't want to say the event gave closure because grief is a process that never ends, but it was an opportunity to feel his presence with us in a different way. 

     Families were each given a dragonfly. We learned these are made by donor family members, started in memory by a mother four years ago to honor her daughter. We met both parents, truly lovely people that intend to keep the dragonfly gifts going. My daughter's and I signed up to help the next time they do a craft session so we too can give to other families. We're going to bring ours to the lake with a crescent moon holder for the whole family to share. The lake seems a fitting place for all and particularly to the story. 

     Here's the story of the dragon fly.