Connecting the Dots

In his 2005 Commencement address to Stanford University, Steve Jobs said,
“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life”.

This approach never let him down and made all the difference in his life? That’s a pretty powerful statement from one of America’s wealthiest men. Trusting the experiences and events (or dots) from your past will connect to your future and won’t let you down? I have to agree with Mr. Jobs. If you haven’t identified this phenomena before, start replaying your past and follow your journey to the present. I promise, there will be a wow factor when you begin seeing the connections.

It is said there are only six degrees of separation between any two people, for me, it’s only two. I could tell many stories to prove this, but the very first one, the one that caused me to see with my eyes wide open, is how Ben’s heart came to beat in another human’s chest.

When it was imminent that Ben was brain dead, his primary care physician asked me to consider donating his organs. I agreed without hesitation, however, because Ben was 21 we had to confirm he had made these wishes known in some legal format. We did find documentation of this in the living will he completed prior to leaving on his last deployment. There was a question that asked, “Do you wish to be an organ donor in the event of your death?” Ben answered yes. The next question asked, “Which ones?” Ben wrote, “any that are needed.” When I met with the doctors to discuss Ben’s donations, they told me I could designate a recipient for any of his major organs so long as that person was on the official waiting list. I didn’t know anyone and gave that thought little attention...

In Illinois a 57 year-old woman was hospitalized waiting for a heart. If she did not receive a new heart she was going to die. She happened to be a former colleague of my first cousin. I knew nothing of this until the dots connected. To put this tapestry together I have to go back to 1982 when my 11 year-old brother was hit by a car and declared brain dead. My family was asked to consider donating his organs. We agreed, and his beautiful blue eyes and kidneys were donated. Ben was born six years later and grew up learning all about his uncle whose personality was very much like his and who saved the lives of strangers long before organ donation was a familiar term.

Early in Ben’s senior year his guidance counselor informed him he was at risk of not graduating because he was short credits. She worked with him to make up the deficit, but in the end, he was still one credit short and was tasked to find it on his own. She suggested he think of anyone in the community he had ever done a favor for or if he had performed any sort of community service he felt was worthy of a credit.

Ben’s mind went back to 5th grade when he broke a scale in his science class. It was accidental, but it was expensive and had to be replaced. He paid for it by performing community service, a punishment doled out by the school Principal. He recalled that he had fulfilled the “community service” he was given and made good on his debt. In the five school years that passed, Ben stayed in contact with and remained in the good graces of Mrs. Thompson, the Principal. She adored Ben and his charming ways. He immediately made his way to her office, explained the predicament he was in, and boldly asked if she would give him that desperately needed credit for the “community service” he completed. She obliged and Ben got his diploma. Without it, Ben would not have been accepted to the Army. He would not have become an Army Ranger who completed three deployments and that living will noting his final wishes.

When I learned that Ben was legally brain dead I shared the news on the Caring Bridge page I had set up. Messages of condolence quickly began pouring in. I couldn’t keep up reading them. The next day, I was able to spend some time reading through them when a scheduled meeting with an Army casualty officer was delayed. I sat at a computer in my hotel lobby and began reading. One of the first messages was from my cousin Maria who lived in Chicago. She offered her sympathy and then gratitude for Ben’s gifts of life through organ donation. She went on to say that she had a friend on the transplant list in need of a heart and Ben’s selfless gifts would certainly save lives.

As soon as I read that part I jumped up from my chair and ran to find my dad and tell him we needed to call Maria because she knew someone who needed a heart. The only people that knew it was possible for me to designate a recipient were my parents and the doctors present in that meeting. I absolutely did not share that information publicly. There is no way Maria had any knowledge that it was even an option, but here she was telling me she knew someone in need. I connected with Maria, found out her friends name and essentially put her people in touch with my people and left the rest up to God. I felt like I had just hit the jackpot on a slot machine and was waiting for an attendant to confirm I had won. Later that afternoon, I got a call from Maria as I was walking to dinner with my dad and two Rangers that served with Ben. She told me that Ben and her friend Judy were a match. She went on to say that her mother, a devout Catholic, claimed this was a first class Miracle! When I heard the words I froze. I couldn’t move. My feet felt like they were stuck in cement, yet at the same moment I felt like if I lifted my arms I would have taken flight. As tears of joy streamed down my face I realized this must be what a miracle feels like.. equal parts of sorrow and joy at the same time! And by equal parts, I’m talking about joy and sorrow as deep and wide as the ocean. It was strange to feel joy as I was less than 24 hours into learning that my son would not survive, but knowing his heart was going to keep beating and give life to another human made my heart happy.

It’s been eight years since that day and Ben’s heart continues to beat. Judy has celebrated eight more birthdays than she once thought she had left. Her life didn’t just get saved on that fateful day in July, the story began with the first thread woven through the tapestry of Ben’s life, which began long before he was born. It started with my grandfather’s service to our great country during WWII. He was Ben’s hero. Ben joined the military out of respect and admiration for him and to vindicate the innocent lives lost on 9/11. It stretched to 1982 when my brother became an organ donor. Ben played his role by breaking that scale in middle school, coming up short credits for graduation and tying in the Principal who punished and gifted him at the same time with the “community service” that earned him his diploma. That diploma got him to the Army to walk in his great grandfather’s footsteps, to defend our freedoms and selflessly sacrifice his life twice - once on the battlefield and again as an organ donor.

Connecting the dots mattered most in Ben’s life. His 21 years were never about earning money. They were about him becoming a conduit to save lives. Clearly, I was and continue to be an instrument to keep the chain going. It isn’t always going to be so bittersweet or gratifying, however, we all have dots that connect farther back than we may realize. We all have dots that will connect us to something in the future. Steve Jobs was right, we have to trust that they will and trust that this will make all the difference in your life. Trust. Trust that our lives are never falling apart, trust that they are falling together. When we rest in the knowledge that the connections are there, are happening right now, and lying in wait for the right moment to be revealed, you might just be wowed!