I used to think that dying was when the vital pop of your heart stopped.

That dying was when your heart rate became like the flat line of the horizon,

where you wouldn’t be rising to sun in the morning

and your loved ones would be left in mourning

 

But on March 23, 2019,

I learned that death does not happen in only one way

Because on that day,

I saw my sister Sarah lying brain dead in a hospital bed

 

Sarah was struck by a truck

Her swollen brain pushed against her skull like an overinflated tire

"Surgery couldn’t save her," is what the doctor said

Sarah would be left to die in a hospital bed

 

Nothing made sense as I felt Sarah’s pulse in my hand

I waited for her to squeeze back,

as if to say she was still there

But all I got was a blank stare

 

Sarah’s hand felt warm

Maybe she was still really here

But death wouldn’t let go of its greedy grip

Dying bodies become hotter before turning cold like their headstones.

 

A tube extended from Sarah like a vein,

flowing oxygen into her heart

I wondered if she was in pain

 

For over ten years, Sarah and I had shared a bedroom

I knew the tempo of my sister’s sleep

like the seashore that knows the rise and fall of waves upon its sandy face

But now a machine forced Sarah’s heart to beat

as I watched my sister die in crushing defeat

 

The nurse asked if I wanted a recording of Sarah’s heartbeat as a keepsake

Her body was there, but her soul was becoming God’s to take

I became disillusioned like a stranger in a foreign land

Heartbeats are supposed to be a sign of life,

like a lost traveler finding water in the desert sand

But Sarah’s heartbeat was like a mirage,

portraying a false image of precious water in a desolate land

 

No, I thought to the nurse

Why would I want a reminder of Sarah’s death?

Her heartbeat was nothing more than a ticking clock –

rhythmic yet lifeless

 

Keeping Sarah alive was no longer the goal

Sarah would not defeat death in this cruel duel

But her beating heart became valuable like treasured gold,

because it would be donated for someone else’s body to take hold

 

Our family was told to say our goodbyes

I struggled to believe this would be how my sister dies,

a dead brain with a beating heart

I wasn’t there when the plug was pulled apart

 

I used to think that living meant your heartbeat was like a mountain range silhouette,

with peaks of promise and valleys of vitality

And death meant your heart was like the flat plains surrounding a mountain

I became like a disoriented hiker as I confronted Sarah’s beating heart and dying brain

 

I used to think that dying was when your heart became still like a frozen waterfall

until I witnessed Sarah’s brain death

Sarah’s life was completing while her heart was still beating

My sister has taught me that dying comes in different forms,

And so does life

 

Sarah may be gone, leaving my family and me to mourn

But her heart continues to beat, giving someone else a life reborn

A successful transplant to a ten-year-old girl in Michigan

All these years and I continue to wonder how Sarah’s heart recipient has been