Dear Donor

May 31, 2024

Dear Donor,

At this moment, your carefully packaged and stored cells are making their way across the ocean and have been en route since approximately 5 a.m. They will arrive in Atlanta around 4 p.m. our time, be transported by the same courier who has accompanied them since they left you in Italy, and be delivered here to Phin in the hospital where I type this letter; in this same room where he sleeps soundly with only the humming of his IV machine, the same machine that hums away in the background of my morning will disseminate your cells into his body around 9 p.m.

When I gave birth to this little boy, exactly seven years ago tomorrow, I thought I had seen all the miracle there was to giving life. I have been humbled now to learn the extent to which miracles of birth and life are happening every day through divinity, through science, through you and your gracious sacrifice to offer up the very core of what churns your own healthy blood to try and save the life of my only son, a stranger. Across all disciplines, one thing we can agree on is that "the life of the creature is in the blood." Your selfless donation will take over the role of giving Phin viable life--producing new, healthy blood to replace the tarnished, fatal kind his body has learned to make. 

It has not escaped me that you were willing to donate without knowing anything about my child, the life you are donating to, and I have wondered what brought you to this place of selflessness, what made you get on the registry at all? Was it someone you loved who needed a donor that inspired you to swab your cheek? Was it a case of happening upon a Bone Marrow drive, shrugging your shoulders, and thinking "why not"? At twenty-six years-old--the age you are now--Dustin--Phin's dad--and I were graduate students whose days were filled with the works of Montaigne, St. Augustine, Sei Shonagon. We spent all of our time consumed by writing and reading and teaching. I was working toward becoming someone who I thought would have something more to offer the world, not realizing at all what you already know: that deep within the spongy parts of my bones, we all already have something to offer the world, a potential cure for at least one life. At twenty-six, by donating your marrow, you have already done something so many of us will never do--saved a life.

Dustin at 26 years old

Neesha at 26 years old

I want to share with you about the life you're saving. Yes, Phin is a six-year old (seven tomorrow!) boy from Georgia in the United States, this is true, but Phin is also a humble lover of animals. Just yesterday, we spent hours watching live cams of any animal he could think of. "Pandas!" He'd shout enthusiastically, and we'd Google search a live cam. Time would pass and his eyes stayed fixed to the squooshy black and white bears, wandering around their enclosure, eating leaves and climbing. Phin--a silent observer of their meanderings. To know Phin is an animal-lover is key because he will not produce animal facts for you like some children who are enthusiastic about their interests do, rattling off everything they know about their beloved. He is humble; his knowledge must be coaxed. If you ask Phin about animals, he will just say he likes them. But if you engage him with conversation, say "The Atlanta Zoo is home to one of the smallest bear species..." he cannot contain himself from exclaiming "the sun bear!?!" Which is correct. Which I also didn't know until this very exchange happened yesterday between Phin and someone who had once worked at the zoo.

Phin observing animals at the zoo

Phin is insightful and keenly observant. I have shared before now some of the fantastic, wise things Phin says--among them that "Life may not be fair, but it's good" and that "behind the storm, there is light"--but his daily observations are keen and witty. When I once asked about whether he'd like me to procure contact information so he could talk to more of his classmates at school, he said "I don't know if you know this, Mom, but a lot of six-year-olds are not good at conversation." When he came home from playing with a group of neighbor kids, he declared one had a crush on another; days later, his 13-year-old sister, with amazement in her eyes, confirmed his observation, declaring "Phinny was right! I don't know how he knew, but he was right!" 

He is confident, cooperative and able to compromise and self-regulate. Like many little boys, he likes sports and video games, but he's willing to take turns choosing the game, to allow others to take the lead, but to take charge himself, if necessary. He recognizes kindness in others and holds those friends in the highest of esteem. He is kind--if you fall, Phin will always stop to help pull you back up, even if you are three feet taller, even if you yourself are a stranger to him.

He is a little brother to two big sisters who dote on him, the definite spoiled baby of our family and our only boy; the fifth member of our clan, who loves things like smoked salmon, avocado, steak, green eggs and ham, chicken tikka masala, and Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies. He is the only one of the group of us with a dimple. It's hidden in the right lower side of his cheek, so close to the fold of his smile, you might miss it if you're not looking closely enough. He laughs with his whole heart, sometimes collapsing down by the strength of his joy. He is oh so loving. At this very moment, he is saving all his Tooth Fairy money up so I can quit my job and spend every moment he's home just playing and hanging out with and loving him with nothing else to worry about.

We have given Phin to the world, and you have made it possible for the world to continue having him. I think of you every day as if you were one of my own children, pray for you every night, thank the universe for your selflessness, willingness, for your heart and goodness, for your "yes". I promise you now to mold this little boy into a man who is selfless, full of love and goodness, a person who will be willing to say "yes" when it matters, who recognizes his worth and ability to make a difference in the world by taking time to love and care for others any way he can...a person, who I imagine, will be just like you.