Day 240: one year, and a letter

To my dearest kin, my Knight,

It has been a full year since this began, somehow. 365 days. The earth has gone all the way around the sun while I have puttered and pillaged through another year of my confusing comedy of a life. I am now in remission. I am over 200 days out from my lifesaving transplant. I am here because of you.

And, I don't know you; in the sense of how one knows another person. And yet you are my nearest kin, my blood brother. We are so close, so connected. I have your blood in my veins. I now have your blood type, your immune system. Because of you, I am alive.

I don't feel that I have the words to say to you. Nothing sounds right. Nothing is enough, or fulfills my feeling about you and your choice to save me from dying. I don't even know if you think of me still. But I think of you every day. I love you, strangely and bizarrely. In a way I will not love anyone else, because I can't. I am in awe of you. I am proud of you. I am indebted to you.

It is strange to me that we may never meet. Though, I don't know what I would say, should the moment arise that we do. "Thank you" is so simple, stupidly simple; we say it when we take our coffee from the counter. We say thank you when someone holds the door. We say thank you when someone saves our life. Language fails. It is not enough.

So thank you for this beautiful day, the sun warming my back as I write this. For allowing me to see today. Thank you for this great book I'm reading. Thank you for my neighbors' dog running around outside, and the birds in the bushes. For music, for dance. For playing on the grass, sitting on the beach. For pretzels. For my hair that's growing in. For coffee in the mornings, for flowers. For my family, my sisters, my dear friends. For every feeling, all my tears, laughter, even anger. Thank you. I would have none of these things without you.

truly yours,

Bekah