The draft of what I had to say to the Donor Family Gathering, Saturday 27 September 2003:

(At this point my left knee was shaking uncontrollably & I had already taken not just 3, but well over a dozen, deep breaths & they weren't working!) Breathe. I've got a really great counsellor who says breathing is good.

G’day.  Where I come from, that means hello.  As you’ve probably figured from my accent, I’m not from around these parts.  I’m from Australia, specifically from Canberra, which is the national capital, our equivalent of your Washington DC.  Quick show of hands, please, those of you who know where Washington DC is.  And a quick show of hands, those of you who know where Canberra is.  Hmm, fairly normal.  It’s about half way between Sydney and Melbourne.

On a slightly different subject, quick show of hands, please, for those of you who, about 2 to 3 months after you lost your loved one, the people at work started to show from their body language, that they had unconsciously decided that it was time for you to stop blubbering, snap out of it, get over it, pull yourself together and get on with your life.  Yeah.  And did anyone actually say any of those things?  No, they probably didn’t dare come out and say them out loud.  But you could tell that’s what they were thinking. 

It’s a problem we have in our Western society.  We don’t know how to grieve, and consequently, we don’t know how to help others to grieve.  In some cultures, a death is followed by huge quantities of wailing, especially by the widow and close female relatives, followed by lots of sleep.  In fact I have a theory, that in the same way that a pilot has to do his 50 hours of flying to qualify for whatever and 1000 hours for something else, we all have to do our mandatory 50 hours of crying in order to start healing.  And we can choose to pack it all into the first 3, 6, 12 months or we can spread it out over a period of many years.

 This is the first and the last opportunity that I will have to join this gathering.  My family and I were only ever here in Seattle for a short period of time.  I’m on a work assignment with Boeing, we arrived in March of this year and I’m going home at Christmas.  In fact I fly into Canberra on Christmas Day.  My wife Doris was not able to work here due to visa restrictions, and she took the time to really look after herself – ladies, you’d know the story, hair, skin, nails, diet, exercise.  On 14 July, while she was exercising at home, she burst a blood vessel in her brain, collapsed on the floor, was taken to Intensive Care, and died early the next morning.  And then of course, the subject of organ donation came up.

 The actual decision to donate Doris’s organs was a no-brainer, if you’ll please pardon the pun.  It was what she wanted, and I know that, because we had discussed it.  The actual signature on the form was relatively easy.  The really hard part, and I know that I’m preaching to the converted here, was ticking the boxes.  Actually having to think about which particular bits of the one you love, that you’re going to give away, was something that I really hadn’t thought about, and suddenly it was right there in my face.  I now make a point of telling people about that, when the subject comes up, so that they can have the opportunity to think about it in advance and not have to deal with it on the spot.

 I have to say I’m impressed by the way that Americans manage to do things in a really big way.  Big cities, big buildings, big freeways, interstate 4-lane highways right across the country.  And you have the ability to get yourselves organised.  As soon as I had agreed to an organ donation, there was a process in place and I knew it was going to lead to an inevitable conclusion, whatever that was.  I’m sure you’ve all been through that process and you all know what it’s like.

 Every time I look at any of the various organisations that make up the organ donation and transplant network here in the North West, the one thing that stands out for me is the involvement of volunteers.  Doris was a manager of volunteers in a whole variety of work environments, over a period more than 20 years.  One measure of her stature in the Canberra community was that over 300 people turned out to her memorial service, and nearly half of them had to stand out in the cold, with temperatures in the mid 40’s.  So on her behalf, I’d like to thank all of the volunteers, and the paid staff, of all of those organisations, for doing the work that you do.

 You know, in all of my grief, I still have things to be grateful for.  I’m grateful that my son was home at the time and wasn’t off at the Scout camp where he could have been, because he called the ambulance, and that gave us the opportunity to spend 2 days with Doris before she was gone forever.  The other major piece of “grateful” that I have is that at least some part of Doris lives on, literally.  There are 2 very lucky men in their mid-40’s, somewhere here in Washington State, each with a new kidney, and I hope and pray that they have the courage to come forward and meet me before I leave.  And I would like to thank all of the local organisations, and in particular Life Center North West, with whom I had the most contact, who enabled that process to happen.

 I talked earlier about ticking the boxes and deciding on the parts.  Whatever decision you make is, by definition, the correct one.  My step-son and I decided at the time on “internal organs only”, so my apologies to the Eye Bank and the Tissue Centre, sorry guys, you missed out.  But I’d like to make amends in some small part, by inviting Kara from the Lions Eye Bank to come forward, please, and accept my wife’s reading glasses. 

Thanks for listening.