Six lessons learned from donating my kidney

It’s been 10 years since I donated my kidney on behalf of my brother. I have since led my life with fearlessness and gratitude. While my soul relishes in this vibrant and ever-changing life, my mind often creates doubt filled with illusions of what I should or shouldn't be doing.

Six lessons learned from donating my kidney. It’s here where the seeds of change began to take shape and transform my life.

1. While staying at the family house in Pittsburgh I grew close to the other families who were waiting for a transplant or recovering from a transplant. I realized during this time how small my world had become—as I witnessed firsthand the pain and suffering so many families endured. I also saw how precious life is. My thoughts felt more open, I had fewer stories in my head to back up old beliefs. I felt present and connected to everyone at the family house where we would share stories over coffee and offer a shoulder to cry on. Since leaving the family house I have continued to look at the faces of humanity knowing that we all have a story to tell.

2. After my brother received his kidney, I felt a clear sense of worthiness. I know that’s a strange thing to say, but in truth, I never felt like I was enough. My focus was often on what I did wrong and where I was lacking. For the first time, I felt acceptance.

3. I was raised to believe our true connections during our lifetime were through our bloodline. I learned through this experience that we are all woven together and I feel part of something so much bigger than myself.

4. My Mom stayed with me at the family house. While she had two of her six children going through surgeries I saw a patient and loving Mom who found joy and connection within this community. She gave back to families every single day in any way she could. I learned that we often look for fault in those we love. We strive to create our destiny, to do better, and to know more. Eventually, when wisdom sets in, it’s simply about the relationships we share. For me, I had always been so independent, never needing anything from anyone. The time with my Mom taught me about myself and being in a place where I accepted compassion, patience, and love.

5. My earliest memory was at the age of three when I woke up from a nightmare and felt like I was being stalked. I’ve had these nightmares for the past 40 years. For most of my adult life, I would keep a large dog around to sound the alarm if needed and always took my shower before my husband and kids left the house to ensure I was not alone. These nightmares have influenced my life. Shortly after my donor surgery, I noticed these nightmares were dissipating to the point where I don’t experience them at all. I read once that kidneys hold our memories.

6. No attachment. Going with the flow, no worries if it turns out this way or that way, I am ok with it. It doesn’t mean I don’t work hard or I don’t ask for what I want. It simply means I am not attached to a specific outcome. This has created a tremendous amount of simplicity in my everyday life.

Love and freedom

Wendy

London, family secrets

After flying to London for a day of meetings, I took the evening train to Birmingham to meet my Dad’s brother for the first time. My uncle shared an intriguing story filled with misunderstandings and regret for the actions of another generation.

A funeral took place in 1980 London where among hushed whispers and commotion a drop of truth began to unravel. A distraught sister who had carried a secret for forty-plus years loudly exclaims for anyone who would listen “his other sons should be here, they should know their father has passed”.

Secrets that would impact generations filled with the deceit of who they were, their culture and their surname would begin to unravel. more to come…

Malahide, County Dublin

Ireland is abundant with its simplistic beauty. Wildflowers perched along the crusts of the sea, expansive fields of green with families of sheep, beautiful mountains on the west coast, and stunning and precarious cliffs.

Still, as I enter into this time of year, I often feel the moodiness of Ireland as the days get shorter, the sun seems rare and the chill from the rain can be felt in my bones.

Bellagio, Lake Como, Italy

Luigi picked me up from the hotel this morning in Bellagio. He was tall, dark, and very charming on our one-hour ride to Milan airport, Luigi talked with his hands moving them as though he was directing a symphony.

His voice would intensify as he shared the moments of his divorce, girlfriends, and his 12-year-old son. And when he pulled my bags from the trunk of his car he kissed me on both cheeks exclaiming he would not forget.

Farewell to Bellagio Italy.

Howth, Ireland

As I hiked up the cliff path in Howth Ireland I came across the home of W.B. Yeats. The house was called the Balscadden House, and the plaque, which noted that Yeats lived there from 1880 to 1883, read, “I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” The quote comes from one of Yeats’ poems, entitled “Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven.”

It’s easy to see how the Irish Sea may have brought much creativity to Yeats.

Howth is only a couple of villages over from where I live in Malahide and is quickly becoming my favorite spot in Ireland.