Its Twisted and Dark

…my mind is.

I will admit it, I felt a tinge of jealousy, followed by a flash of guilt.  Why would their daughter be spared, when mine wasn’t?  The conversations always start out simple enough.  And end in a full fledge debate.  I enjoy debates with like minded people, but on occasion, I like to toss in an undecided member just to take things to a new level.  Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, especially considering the topic at hand was so near to my heart.  But I did it anyways, and regretted it.  Its my own fault really.  But still, I cant help it sometimes.  I have to prod those areas, just enough.  Just to see.  Do I really still care?

Heart transplants.  Ever since the discussion the other day, its been on my mind.  Knowing it’s a yes or no case – I posed the question.  Are transplants ok?  One side whole heartedly agreed, while the other stood firm, so firm, in the camp of no.  Both sides argued well, and passionately – and then asked what I thought.  I couldnt answer.  Because I simply do not know.

On the one side the argument was made that transplants are only given to the rich.  Help, is really only offered to those with money – because when it comes down to it – money talks.  But I also know there is more that goes into it.  There is more than just selecting a random person with a random organ and saying you will do!  There is so, so much more.  And in a way, I feel personally connected to it all.  Because I have been on that other side.  Both sides.

I know absolutely nothing about parenting, but I will tell you this – a real parent will fight to the death to save their child.  But am I a real parent?  The conversation earlier shook any grounds that I stood on – that I had done all I could to help my daughter.  If I were a bit more rich?  Would that have helped?  Did I not offer her enough?  Maybe there was something MORE I could have done.  And while logically I know, know, KNOW, that I did all I could have done at the time, my mind and heart sometimes just don’t agree, and sometimes, logic doesn’t win.

Reading the updates, hearing how well the child who just received a heart transplant is doing, is encouraging.  Im happy.  REALLY.  I am.  Don’t get me wrong.  I am so happy for her and her family.  For all the other families I have heard the good news on – I am honestly, thrilled.  But part of me still asks – why them?  Was my daughter not as important?

Movies I have watched, true or untrue, both stating the case that money talks – and each family whos child WAS saved, was because of the money drives this point home harder.  Money.  Money.  Money.  Damn the money.  I want my daughter.

But doesn’t every parent?

Instead of happiness, I feel pain.  And anger.  And guilt.  And pity.  But mostly, anger.  At myself.  For getting upset, and raining in on someone parade.  While I should be thrilled, that this heart came just in time – I cant be.  I see pain, and sadness on the faces of others.  I carry the grief of the family who lost the child who donated the heart, and I feel the burden of the world – crying out with the same unanswered question.  Why not my child?

Had I been given the chance, I would have given her the world.  I would have shown her around a broken pain riddled world full of sickness and suffering, and I would have sheltered her as long as I possibly could have.  But since I cant, I can only hold to the falsity that I tried, and live with the regrets and knowledge that I failed as a parent.

And go on smiling, because atleast one child – one family – was spared.

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