A few days ago, I got a letter from a man who can walk now, thanks to Steve’s organ and tissue donation.

A while back, I got a letter from a woman whose sight was restored.

Being an organ donor was really important to Steve. He believed in medicine, had a trust in it that I could never manage. I can recognize the advances without really feeling like most of the people in the field we ever encountered had much of a clue.

Today, I got the explanation of benefits from the Medicare coverage Steve had at his death. The bill was fourteen hundred dollars to start with. After insurance, it comes to about 80.

It’s hard to find the will to pay it when I knew he was dead before the ambulance arrived. I didn’t want to know it, but I knew it. Then I drove myself to the hospital in the wake of the ambulance and kept thinking, “I hope he’s dead. I hope he’s dead.” He had been gone for so long that any resuscitation would have been a nightmare, not a miracle.

Steve healing the blind, healing the lame and the halt, that’s my miracle. With all my ambivalence about doctors, thank you for that miracle. Thank you for turning my loss into joy. I’m claiming a little of that joy as my due.