In the fall of 2002, what I knew about organ donation could fit on my license: a tiny red heart near my name indicating I wanted to be an organ donor in my death. That same fall, I had a conversation with my sister, Lorraine, and her daughters, Jennifer (about to be 12) and Michelle (just turned 9) while traveling in their car. This poignant conversation was about Jenn’s desire to be an organ donor. Our family eye doctor, Dr. Tom Dempsey, is a liver recipient. His office is adorned with organ donation information and Jenn had discussed this process with him during one of her visits. Why this was the top of conversation that day, no one knows. But Jenn wanted to know how she could obtain a card to put in her wallet to indicate that she wanted to be an organ donor if she died. Lorraine assured her that she could do that on her license when she was old enough to drive. Jenn persisted and finally a promise was made that if anything happened to her, her mother would see to it that her organs were donated.

Only a month after that conversation and Jenn’s birthday, the unthinkable happened. Jenn was injured in a sledding accident on the afternoon of January 11, 2003 and died the next day at Boston Children’s Hospital from those injuries. In her death, her liver and pancreas were donated. She became my hero.

Whenever I visited Dr. Dempsey, we would talk about Jenn and her remarkable gifts. At his encouragement, I attended the 2004 National Kidney Foundation Transplant Olympic Games in Minneapolis, MN. These games are a celebration of life for transplant recipients and a time of solemn remembrance for donors in death. I created a quilt square in Jenn’s honor and pinned it on the NKF’s Donor quilt in a moving and tear-filled ceremony. I met the athletes from Connecticut and cheered them on in their respective sports; and I took a memorable 5K walk with Jean Bowen, a kidney recipient and a friendly and gentle woman. Our connection continued after the games and one day I received an email from her about a man named Rob, whose kidney was failing. He needed a new one.

The sun was shining through the window that day in my small computer room. The birds were chirping and in the stillness of that moment, I heard a voice with startling clarity say, "It’s me. I’m his donor." At that same time, I was filled with a presence of love and openness that I had never felt. Jenn was in the room with me and she whispered her own, Go for it, Auntie. It’s up to you. I sat there thinking and then I began to take action.

Jean’s instructions were to contact Yale-New Haven Transplantation Center. I emailed the contact person and filled out a form. While at the library the next day, I received a phone call about my inquiry. Our library has a policy against using cell phones, so I found a corner chair, hunkered down behind it, cupped my hand over my phone, and began a conversation that changed my life and Rob’s life forever. I explained to my contact that I was whispering because I was in the library, not because I was at all tentative in my decision.

"What’s next? When can I be tested and donate?" I inquired. "I’m ready."

"This process takes a while and you’ll need to come in for a series of tests."

I booked my appointments, and in the summer of 2005 I visited Yale-New Haven a few times. With each visit I received the same outcome: "Everything looks good. You are a match. We have a few more tests and the committee has to review your case." While I waited, I spoke with doctors, the social worker, the financial planner, and nurse coordinator Joyce Albert became my contact person. I spoke with her daily, by email, to make sure the approval process didn’t lose any ground. I was not patient!

While there were no glitches in my process of being accepted as a donor, I did need to undergo a few additional tests. These were done willingly and always with the same caveat, "These will confirm, again, that I am Rob’s donor." They did!

Somewhere between my first tests and meeting Rob, I emailed Jean that I was in this process and was hoping to be Rob’s match. At this point, I learned that Jean and Rob are brother and sister. Jean thought I already knew; but because I was new to the group and Jean and Rob had different last names, I wasn’t aware of it.

I also learned that Jean’s donor was her friend and massage therapist. It turns out that a teacher at Salem School where I teach was also a kidney donor to another teacher at the school. I had lengthy conversations with Jean’s donor and my school colleague and was even more convinced that this was part of my purpose in life. So, now it was time to meet Rob.

Our meeting place became Ruby Tuesday’s restaurant in Meriden. I remember telling Rob that I knew this was right for me and that someday I would tell him all the details leading up to this decision. He expressed his gratitude, multiple times, and we parted after dinner with a sense of serenity.

In late October, I learned that the committee had approved me and I would be scheduled for surgery in December 2005. I called Rob, unbeknownst to me, on his birthday and told him we had a green light and in December he would have a new kidney. Joyce offered me a choice of dates and I chose December 15, 2005.

I knew this was meant to be, and this was the final sign. December 15 would have been Jenn’s 15th birthday and on that day, in her honor and with her blessing, I gave the gift of life to a wonderful man and a great steward of my kidney, Rob Fogelberg, who is affectionately known as the "Kidney Keeper."

Story by Janlyn Neri