For a long time I didn’t talk about it. I kept the transplants to myself, and I spent too many years chasing things that didn’t matter.
You each gave me a kidney. One of you I have known all my life; the other I will never meet. I owe you both a debt, and this is how I’ve decided to start paying it.
On Mother’s Day I’ll leave Bend on an old-soul Ural named Kalinka, with Gnocchi riding beside me. Nobody else would get in the sidecar. He did. We’ll ride US-20 from the Pacific to the Atlantic and come home along the California coast, stopping wherever someone is waiting for their own second chance.
And every day, somewhere beautiful, I’ll stop for a coffee and think of you.
P.S. If you’re reading this and you haven’t registered as an organ donor yet, it takes a few minutes. Somebody is waiting for a stranger like you.