My Husband Became an Organ Donor – His Doctor Stopped Me in the Hospital Hallway and Said, ‘There’s Something He Made Me Promise Not to Give You Until Now’

I looked down.

“Your father is already annoying me from beyond the grave.”

Another kick.

“Yes. He probably deserved that.”

I folded the note.

Then I put the flash drive away.

I wasn’t ready.

Part 4: Grief Needed Someone to Blame

Two days later, Violet came to the house.

I found her standing in Cecelia’s nursery, folding a pink blanket that had already been folded perfectly.

“Violet?”

She didn’t turn around.

“Did they take everything?”

For a moment, I didn’t understand.

“From Mark,” she added.

I swallowed.

“They’ll only recover what can actually be donated.”

She held the blanket more tightly.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“No.”

“You seem okay.”

“What exactly am I supposed to look like?”

She turned toward me.

“His heart. His skin. His eyes. Pieces of my son are going to strangers.”

“They don’t transplant whole eyes.”

“You know what I mean.”