Hello, hello, people of the blogisphere!
We are a little more than a year since my double-lung transplant, and as a result, life was starting to get a little boring. You may have noticed that I wasn’t posting nearly as many blogs. I know that it seems like I’m leaving you all hanging, but in reality my life really isn’t that exciting. I go to school. I work almost every night. I go home. I do homework. I sleep (though not much). That’s about it. Trust me when I say that if I felt there was something worth writing, I would definitely write about it. If there is one thing you don’t want to waste in this world, let it be words. They hold immense power. They can bring someone up, or tear them down into nothing. Release them when they are most afraid, but hold them back when their intentions are impure. I decided a while ago to never waste my words. They are too important. Which is why I didn’t waste them on arbitrary things that weren’t worth the ink they were written with.
These next words, however, deserve to be shouted and screamed and cried and cheered and whispered.
At about 11:00 last night, Logan finally received The Call. The call that we had been waiting 8 months for. The call that holds her entire future. Her future had been in question since before she was born. My parents already had one child with cystic fibrosis and they wanted to be prepared if their third daughter also had the mutation. It was always known that she had CF. There was never a period when she was a “normal” baby. She has been different for her entire existence.
She will always be different, but not because she can’t breathe or because she coughs at the worst possible times or because she spends a large majority of her life in a hospital. She will be different because she is one of the most special people to have ever existed. She is so beautiful and she doesn’t even try. She doesn’t acknowledge her beauty and I often question if she truly knows how lovely she is. Her beauty, however, is not limited to her appearance. She is so fully herself and, if she knows you, is not afraid to show you how truly weird and silly she is. Her sense of humor is out this world and she makes me laugh at least once a day. She is quick-witted, but never mean. She is the best kind of funny, pulling her words from inside her mind instead of pulling out the insecurities in others. She is the best friend you could ever ask for. She will always be there to help you if you need it and will never judge you for the mistakes that you’ve made. She is incredibly smart, but is not pretentious. She downplays her brain, especially her creativity. Whether it be doodling with a pen or pencil, or sculpting something new out of nothing, or painting the world on a canvas, her work is always perfect. Her art is a direct correlation of herself. She looks at her artwork how she looks at herself: never truly satisfied with the result. However, when the world looks at her, all they see is perfection, just how all they see is a perfect piece of art.
After my transplant, I gained confidence and learned the importance of my words and actions. As happy as I am that she will be able to live the life I always imagined for her, I hope what she gains most from this transplant is the ability to see herself how the rest of the world does. I want her to realize that her words matter, that they are important, that people want to hear what she says. More than that, I want her to love herself as much as I love her.
I wrote this poem my senior year of high school for my English Literature class. It’s not perfect, but it is still one of my favorite things ever written. These will always be my words to her, to read whenever she feels less than the perfect woman I know she is.
Sister
Though you’ve grown,
You’re still so young.
I see it in your eyes.
I hear it in your laugh.
You are like a light.
Your innocence shines
Like a diamond among stones.
I hope you never lose that light,
That brightness you bring
To this life.
Though we fight and argue,
I will always be on your side.
When you find you are too weak,
I will support you.
Should anyone hurt you,
I will be the first to defend.
Whenever a tear falls,
I will wipe it away.
If the monsters come out,
I will push them back.
I look at you
And it amazes me.
I see who you are,
The little girl you used to be,
And the woman you will become.
I see how good you are.
So much better than me
In every way possible.
I see everything I wish
I could be, and more.
I don’t tell you,
Not nearly enough,
How much you mean to me.
You were my playmate,
Sometimes my roommate,
My copilot, my enemy.
You are my sister,
My best friend, my rock.
Most of all though,
You are my world.
She is currently in surgery and I will keep you all updated. Thank you all for the support. But most of all, thank you for your words, especially those unspoken.
With Every Breath: My Life with Cystic Fibrosis 