how often do you get to change someone's life?

My brother went home today. In between our online rounds of words with friends (as usual, he's trouncing me), he kept me updated on last blood tests, discharge papers, how the dogs reacted when he walked through the door.

He's home.

I'm home.

Somehow nothing feels all that different. I'm swollen and bruised and tired. And battling gas that's taken on a personality of its own. But, I felt worse after I fell off my bike last fall.

And then I read my brother's latest post on facebook:

I can't believe this, but I am home. I have a few months of intense follow-up and I've got to avoid crowds during that time, but I'm home with a GREAT new kidney and a new lease on life.

There were endless enthusiastic comments below. I was touched by the support. Heartened by how loved he is and how thrilled people were to hear he's ok.

And then tears welled up and I started to sob.

This was because of me.

He's ok because of me.

I changed someone's life.

The months of angst and frustration have been wiped clean.

As a life-long cynic, nay sayer, non-believer, I am now standing in grateful. I'm basking in miracle. I'm a believer of possibility in spite of brick walls and dead ends.

I've been part of the impossible happening.

And Dave, I'll say it again, there's no place I would rather have been than sharing this kidney journey with you.