The 2025 Curveball

When 2025 started, I told myself I was going to do the things that bring me joy and say no to the things that don't. That was my mantra. As we are about to enter my birthday month, I've looked back over the past nine months and I am happy with what I've done so far. But we'll talk more about that in another post. 

2025 also decided to throw in a curveball, because why not? At this point, I'm thinking it's a requirement every year since 2020... 

Anyway... earlier this year, we found out my Dad needs a new liver. While we knew this was maybe something that would happen, everything kind of happened rather quickly once the cards started falling. In June, he was officially added to the liver transplant list. 

We quickly learned that this "transplant world" was filled with things we didn't know. I mean, why would you need to know how your liver affects your oxygen levels unless it's causing a problem for you? 

The good news is that my Dad is pretty stable. He's still able to do most everything he's always done. But he gets tired a lot more quickly. Plus some other fun things he gets to deal with that are all symptoms of liver disease but that you would never suspect would be related to liver disease. 

When he was added to "the list" (which is not actually a list!), he was approved for both a deceased donor, which would be a full liver transplant, or a living donor, which would be a partial liver donation. 

My parents brought home a packet of information from Rochester on living donors. My siblings and I all read through it. There was a very strict list of requirements. No one over the age of 60, you must have a BMI under 30, you must not have any other underlying health problems, etc. We all decided we were going to apply and see if we were a match for our dad. 

When it came time for one of us to move forward in the process to the actual evaluation process, I used my oldest sibling authority and told my siblings I would get tested first. At least, I can pretend that I still have that oldest sibling authority. :) 

In early September, I spent three days in Rochester getting tested. I have a much better understanding of what my dad has to do every time they go to Rochester for all of his tests. It was a lot. (more on that later too) But about a week after that, I found out that I was a match. 

Then came time for the actual decision. And let me tell you, it was a big decision. We spent time talking as a family, I spent time talking to Jacob, along with his therapist, I spent time talking to my own therapist. 

I decided I wanted to do it - I wanted to donate part of my liver to my dad. 

Then I had to get my dad to agree. 

And I get it, right? If this was Jacob who wanted to do something this big for me, I would have a really hard time accepting that. So we spent more time talking and thinking and praying. My parents did more research on living donations and what my recovery would look like. 

Finally, my dad said yes. And so we've scheduled the surgery for November 20th. There is a lot that needs to be figured out before then, so I'm thankful we have the time. But a lot could change during that time too and my dad could get too sick and we would have to cancel the surgery. 

I tend to process things better when I write, so my therapist suggested I think about journaling through this entire process and maybe sharing the journey with all of you. So with my dad's blessing, let's give it a shot. 

So while a partial liver donation was not on the bucket list of things to do in the year I turn 40, here we are. It's going to be an adventure for sure! 

In the meantime, your prayers are most welcome.  

World Suicide Prevention Day: Love is...

I have no idea how to start this blog post. I have no idea what I want to say. Yet it feels like something needs to be said.

September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day. A day that I will never not recognize for the rest of my life. Losing someone to suicide was one of the worst possible kinds of grief I've ever experienced. One that I wish no one ever had to experience. 

So I guess on this day, I want to say that you are loved. No matter who you are, what you're doing, how you're feeling - you are loved. You are wanted. You are worthy of life. The world is a better place with you in it. The world needs you in it. Please just stay. If you need to talk, I'm here to listen. If you need to just sit with someone, I can be that someone. Just please know how much you are truly loved. 

Five years ago, I wrote this blog post about a song that was commissioned in Austin's memory by his high school class. And for the past five years, I've wanted more for this song. I've wanted to honor Austin's memory in a way that showed his incredible impact on others. 

This past year, I finally saw that happen. The amazing Wartburg Choir under the direction of Dr. Lee Nelson learned 'Love is...' and performed it at their Spring concert and tour. 

I mentioned in the other blog post about how the process of getting the song created was part of a healing process for myself and for Austin's family. Something we didn't know we needed. I had a very similar experience during this process. 

Incredibly, Dr. Nelson sent me an email on Sunday, February 23rd, letting me know that the Wartburg Choir has learned 'Love is...' and were loving it. They wanted to connect with me to learn more about Austin and why this song was created. For those of you that don't know, February 23, 2018 is when Austin passed. To get this email from Dr. Nelson on this day truly felt like a gift from heaven. Or to use a phrase from Dr. Nelson, a "God wink". 

Shortly after, we set up a Zoom meeting with myself, Connor Koppin (the composer) and the Wartburg Choir. Before the meeting, I wanted to try and find some of the things Austin's past students had said about him, to share that with the choir - how important his teaching was. I have a box of things from when Austin passed and so I opened it up for the first time in probably as many years. 

My emotions were all over the place going through that box. We had asked people to send us letters and memories of Austin so that Jacob can read them one day when he was older. But I think I forgot about the amount we did received. I had been saving all these memories for when Jacob was older but seeing them all, I realized that I have all of these memories about AJ right at my fingertips for the days when I struggle to remember him before his illness took over. It was a gift, I realized. (Maybe more on this another time)

Back to the Zoom meeting, I shared memories of AJ. How we met, how much the choir meant to him. And as I talked, I remembered stories that I had not thought about for a really long time. Like when I talked about how he proposed on our international choir tour, I remember how he had asked for an extra key card from the hotel to help hide the bulge from the ring box in his pocket. Or that the night before, he took the ring out of the box, filled the bathroom sink with water and checked to see if the box would float. You see, he proposed while on a gondola ride in Venice Italy and he did not want to accidentally lose the ring over the side of the boat! It's so easy to forget these little things that highlight who AJ was as a person. And so it's so much of a gift to be reminded of them. 

It was also really great to hear from Connor and what creating the piece meant to him. What I hadn't known before this was that Connor actually met AJ. While AJ was teaching at Riverside, the Wartburg Choir came and did a workshop with them. Connor mentioned that he can remember the passion and energy that AJ had while teaching those students. Knowing that Connor knew AJ as a person made me appreciate his composition for the song so much more. 

During the call, the choir sang the song for Connor and I. This was the first time I was truly hearing the song as it was meant to be heard. And I can't tell you how much that filled my heart in that moment. I couldn't wait for others, especially AJ's family, to be able to finally hear the song. 

In another "God wink", the Choir was doing their tour run out the weekend right after AJ's birthday. (The tour run out is where the choir will travel to a few different areas close by and perform the concert as sort of a run-though before the actual tour happens.) The first concert took place in Mount Vernon, where the Mount Vernon High School Choir also performed. Their current director was also AJ's high school director in Tipton. The second concert was in Des Moines where we were able to gather as a family to celebrate AJ's birthday and attend the concert together. 

Both concerts were just an incredible experience. If you've ever been to a Wartburg Choir performance, I don't need to tell you that they knocked it out of the park.

I also believe that the timing of all of this was exactly how it needed to be. I personally am in a much different place in my own grieving process than I was five years ago. I have worked on processing a lot of my feelings and have worked to find myself in a better place. And a lot of this process brought up so many memories of AJ and so many emotions. But instead of being painful, like they absolutely would have before, they were a comfort to me. It was like a warm blanket surrounding me. 

It was so meaningful to finally have this song heard by others. But it was also meaningful because before the song, Dr. Nelson talked about Austin and what this piece means. And it was also an opportunity for us to share the message "You are loved and wanted here." to anyone who needed to hear it. And that is truly what meant the most out of everything. That maybe someone who is struggling would hear this song and realize that they are loved, they are wanted. They would decide to stay. And I am so grateful for that. 

Ultimately, that's what this is all about. To honor AJ's memory and maybe changing the life of someone else; maybe saving the life of someone else. AJ was an amazing teacher and made a meaningful impact on the lives of those he taught. My hope is that this song is a way for him to continue to have an impact on people's lives. 

Please enjoy this self-recorded video of the Wartburg Choir performing 'Love is...' under the direction of Dr. Lee Nelson at the St. Ambrose Cathedral in Des Moines, Iowa. And know that you are important. You are loved. You are worthy. You are wanted. "Let this love blind your shadows."

P.S. I just received news from Dr. Nelson today that 'Love is...' has been published by ECS Publishing. Inside the front cover is a program note from Connor and myself. And a reminder for those struggling that there is a place for them here. How's that for another "God wink" on World Suicide Prevention Day?