| Heart and Soul and the Hummingbird |
| Reprinted from March/April 2002 issue of Breavement Magazine with the permission of Bereavemnt Publishing, Inc. 888-604-4673 (Hope) |
| By Marguerite Wahl, North Vancounver, British Columbia |
| Four days after my dughter Shannon's death, I was sitting out on the sundeck with some friends on a sunny August afternoon, feeling numb, exhausted, and unable to believe that she was really gone. As we sat together, two hummingbirds flew up to the edge of the deck. Though we have many birds around the garden, I have never before seen a hummingbird. One hummingbird hovered around the planter, and the other one flew right up to my face - so close that I drew back, thinking it was going to get me in the eye. It flew around and around my head and repeatedly flew toward my face as if it were trying to tell me something. It did this for perhaps five minutes or so, which is a long time for a hummingbird to stay so close to humans. Then it flew over to the other hummingbird by the planter, and they left together. I like to think it was Shannon saying goodbye to us and telling me that all was well, and the other hummingbird was my dad (who had died four years before) guiding her on her journey. All that summer, I waited for the hummingbirds to visit again and even bought a hummingbird feeder, but they did not return that year. However, last summer, two hummingbirds visited frequently and stayed around for long periods of time, lighting in a nearby tree and looking over the deck. Native Indian legend says the the hummingbird is a messenger from the spirit world and a healer. When the hummingbird appears in a time of sorrow and pain, healing will soon follow. December 19 is Shannon's birthday. In 2000, we had a party on her twenty-first birthday, and lots of friends came over to share in the cake and champagne. In 2001, we had another party on her birthday of a slightly different sort. Tony and I were getting married, and Shannon's birthday seemed like the right day to do it. My wedding ring has a hummingbird engraved on it, and I can't help but feel that Shannon was with us all in spirit on that day, dancing and celebrating. Recently, I received a very important letter. It came through the BC Transplant Society from a person who received Shannon's heart and wrote to thank us for the gift of life and tell us that our daughter's heart beats strongly in her chest, giving her a new chance at life. Six people received a part of Shannon's body after her death, and I have heard from one of them. I'm not sure how the others are doing - we aren't allowed to know the identities of the recipients, nor do they know our identity. I'm not sure if the recipient was a man or a woman, but I believe it is a woman. Part of me wants to meet this person now, lay my head on her chest and listen to my daughter's heart beating there. I wonder if she received, with that heart, Shannon's incredible zest for life, her love of horses, family and friends. Does this recipient now enjoy pasta with tomato sauce and Shaftsbury Cream Ale? Can she dance through the day, as Shannon used to do, singing and laughing, always seeing the funny side of things, never being able to stay angry long? Can she burp the alphabet and snort like Shannon did? It is hard to know what you receive when you get a part of someone else like that. I have read some amazing stories about people knowing things about thier donor that they couldn't possibly have known - things like what kinds of food and music they liked. Are heart and soul completely seperate? Somehow it comforts me to know that Shannon's heart is out there beating strongly. Would I know the recipient if I passed her on the street? Would I have some indefinable feeling of connection and be drawn to her in some way? Several weeks ago I met a woman who had a heart-lung transplant and is now in excellant health, living life to the fullest. She asked me if I had received a letter from any of the recipients, and when I said no, she told me that it was the most difficult letter she ever had to write and that it took her over a year before she wrote hers. "But you have to know," she said to me "that we think about you every day of lives and thank you for the gift you gave. How can you thank someone for giving you a second chance at life? There just don't seem to be the right words to say." I asked her if she ever felt that she had received more than just the organs - if she felt she "knew" things about her donor because she now had a part of them in her. She said, "No not really. Although one thing that kept me going when I was in ICU and suffering many setbacks was a vision of birds - a hummingbird and an eagle." There is so much that we don't know or understand! |
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