In the midst of it all, my sister managed to remember that my mom had always wanted to donate her eyes. She was always proud of her vision and only recently had begun to experience the need for reading glasses. However, the doctors said since they didn’t know where the cancer was located, they had to run many tests before even considering the idea. Her intracranial pressure had already reached a dangerous level. And then my dad said to us, “I just want this to end. Please let her be at peace.” I could sense the rising tension between my sister and my dad as they fought for what they believed to be “what my mother would have wanted”. She never got to donate her eyes and soon she was cremated. I do wonder how nice it would have been if someone alive today had my mom’s beautiful eyes.
Continued:
After the cadaver memorial, I had several discussions with close friends regarding body donations. First, I was told by someone that some of the students were throwing eyeballs around in anatomy lab. And another friend told me that body donation is probably not a emotional taxing event and most people donate because they are going to be dead anyways. I chose not to argue. I know that contemplating my mom's body for donation was one of the most emotional times of my life.
