Dorothy Jackson Memorial Page


Aug. 18, 1935-April 9, 1997

Devoted wife, beloved mother, dedicated nurse, best friend and fabulous Leo.

When you are gone, there is no bloom nor leaf
Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds;
And I can only stare, and shape my grief
In little words

"Little Words," Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)

It goes without saying that I still miss my mother immensely -- her guidance, her unconditional love, her strength, her perspective, her listening ear, her empathy and compassion. Most of all, I miss sharing with her all the ups and downs of my life.

My mother was an incredibly strong woman who endured nearly three decades of the pain and suffering related to renal failure, which brings me to why I dedicated valuable Internet space to a Web site for her. I don't expect a total stranger to give a damn about my mother -- she will never be as important to you as she was to me, our family, her friends and people she cared for in her profession as a licensed practical nurse.

My mother has a memorial Web site because, according to the National Kidney Foundation, more than 56,000 Americans are awaiting life-saving kidney, liver, heart, lung, bone marrow or pancreas transplants. Of them, 35,000 are awaiting a kidney transplant, as my mother had. Every day, 10 or 11 people die while waiting for a donor organ. Those were statistics from 1997, when my mother died. At that rate, I'm sure there have been millions more since. And even if the numbers didn't rise, just one person awaiting an donor organ still is one person too many.

My mother was among the 10 or 11 who died April 9, 1997 waiting for a donor organ. I don't know how many individuals shared the sorrow my family shared that day as they lamented the loss of a loved one whose life probably could have been saved if more people could have taken it upon themselves to give the gift of life.

About 50,000 Americans die each year from kidney disease and renal failure. More than 260,000 Americans who suffer from chronic kidney failure depend on dialysis or a transplant to live, as my mother did for about 15 years. That is no way to live, particularly for an extended period. Even childbirth is a piece of cake compared to having all your blood drained into a machine, cleaned and returned six to eight hours a day, three days a week, every week for 15 years. It isn't something I'd wish on my worst enemy's dog. It wrecks your circulatory and immune systems. But my mother did it and, when it was done, worked another eight hours afterward! I wasn't kidding when I said she was strong!

The least I can do to keep my mother's memory alive is to help spread the truth about renal disease and, most of all, do my part to stop the idiotic urban myths that constantly spread among otherwise reasonable people who use the Internet and through word of mouth about widespread kidney theft.

I do not consider it an overstatement to say that these urban myths helped kill my mother, who waited 15 years for a kidney that never came because people were too afraid for whatever reason to sign an organ donor card. I have signed an organ donor card. I have even offered one of my kidneys to my mother, a gift she would not accept because her condition could be hereditary and she wanted me to keep both my kidneys in case the same happened to me. Since then, both my brothers have been treated for kidney stones, so it was not an empty concern on her part. Yet, I remain healthy and continue to be a potential organ donor.

Many who decide not to become organ donors cite religious concerns that eternal life would not be granted to those who leave this earth with less than what God gave them. As tolerant as I try to be about religious beliefs that are different than mine, I find this hardest to swallow. I find it hard to believe that God would hold it against anyone if, upon their death, they give the gift of life to someone else. The God I believe in sees the gift as the ultimate form of sacrifice.

Then there are those -- many of whom share my skin color, I'm not proud to say -- who feel that organ donation is yet another government plot to perform genocide on blacks or Latinos or Asians or Native Americans. Or that they shouldn't be an organ donor because their organ might save a white person over one of their own. I'd like to think there is a special circle in Hell for these people. The majority of those who die waiting for a transplant are minorities, and they die because their so-called brethren are more than willing to sacrifice them so they won't collude with the white man in their own destruction. Please, spare me. If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem.

With all that said, organ donation isn't an option for everyone. But that doesn't mean I'll let you slide, either. Here's what else you can do if organ donation isn't a viable option: Thank you for visiting this site, and enduring my rant. If it leads to one more organ donor, one more saved life, or one more person not believing every email generated by every conspiratorial moron in Cyberspace, it was well worth the effort.

And call your mother -- I'd give anything to do the same.

Peace,
Valarie

Aleta Glasgow Memorial Page

5/18/67-10/13/01

OK, when I first put this page up nearly nine years ago, I didn't think I would add to it--perhaps I'd add my father and that's about it.

Then, not even five years later, I lost one of my best friends from high school to cancer, which really hurt because Aleta was my dependable lifeline after my mother's death. I wish I could be as eloquent as I was for my mother, but to be honest, her death was so sudden that I still find it hard to come up with anything, which was why she was on my index page for so long.
All I can say is that nearly five more years have passed and I still miss her. I ache because she missed her little brother's wedding in 2005 and that she isn't here to see her baby turn 16 this Jan 25. She didn't see her son finish school and won't see her daughter finish, either. I try very hard to take up some of the slack by being there, but it's just not the same without her and it makes me miss her even more.

All I can manage to say is this: your friends are the best things in the world--you can't beat them with a stick--and it is ALWAYS important to keep them close for two reasons: you never know when you're going to need them and you'll never know when they will disappear. And it's not just important to remember this when you're having the time of your lives together, because that's easy. It's more important to remember when you're too tired to write; too tired to catch up; when they're driving you nuts with the latest drama; when all you want to do is hang out, day after day, with your significant other and that friend is like a third wheel; when they call you at 3 am to rant. When your friend is being a right royal pain in the butt, ask yourself what you would do if he died suddenly at the end of the week. You then will realize how important he is.

Friends are always easy to cherish when they're there and filled with sweetness and light, but they are always important. When they can't be there for you anymore, what will you do? Always keep that in mind.

After you call your mother, give your best buddy a ring, too.

Back to Valarie's Planet