OH, DEATH; A LOVE STORY part 1

Last Tuesday I lost two dear friends within mere hours of each other. The first, Garth Hudson, the last living member of The Band, finally succumbed to his body getting older, though his soul was not. His soul was a kind, playfully mischievous engine positively bursting with music. He is the purest music making, living, swimming, breathing, eating, dancing, loving machine I have ever met, no question- no contest. I will write Part 2 just for him…(to be continued)

The other, my dear, selfless friend, Diane Butler died suddenly of a brain aneurysm at home. She felt no pain or horror or confusion. In other words she had a “good death,” for which those who love her are so grateful. Her life does not end there however. Her longtime partner Beth is the one who found her blue and unconscious with no pulse, and immediately began to perform CPR. She had also called the paramedics and they were on their way. The combination of Beth’s heroic actions and the paramedics' expertise brought back Diane’s pulse, she was not gone after all. For hours poor Beth waited and agonized in the ER, Diane stabilized enough to get a CT scan where they confirmed what Beth and the doctors suspected; there was no brain activity. The Diane we could talk to and laugh with was gone, but in true Diane fashion, she had a plan. She was an organ donor. It was her most fervent wish on this earth to serve, to help, to save, to repair, and to give hope and joy. So much so she saved pretty much nothing but a few simple pleasures for herself, she was unbelievably stubborn and willful about it. It was her goddamned personal brand and she lived it hard! So here at the end of her life, as she lay peaceful and warm in her hospital bed she was still going to work for someone else, in fact, several someones.

Diane was born in Belgrade, Yugoslavia, now Serbia, where she lived in an orphanage until she was two or three. She was adopted by Bud and Lucy, a Canadian couple who lived there as Bud worked for diplomatic security at the Canadian embassy. They ended up living all over the world. Diane was incredibly smart and spoke several languages. She learned to love horses riding with Ghandi’s grandkids in India, they played polo together. Diane soaked up culture like a starving sponge. She was hyper interested and curious about everything. She went from being an orphan to living an incredibly privileged life which she did not waste or take for granted ever. She used everything she ever learned for good and shared it all. She and Beth run the beloved Squirrelwood horse sanctuary in upstate New York. It’s a horse sanctuary but Diane let all creatures in; cows, goats, chickens, geese, turkeys, ducks, pigs, sheep… you name it. She also saved squirrels, birds, plants, raccoons and whatever needed saving. Humans were saved too, as Diane always had time for people who needed a hand, myself included. When my house burned down in 2017 Beth and Diane cared for my two horses like they were their own until we could all go back to the house. I was in Sweden when it burned so it was just poor ManFriendJeff on the scene with nowhere to go. Diane was down in a flash to pick up my three dogs to give them somewhere stable to be until Jeff and I had our living arrangements sorted. There were many times D+B were there for me and mine. They are core friends. “Best friend” or friends just doesn’t cut it. I am fortunate enough to have several core friends, the ones you can’t do without, in other words, my “chosen family.” Beth and Diane are that in spades. 

The four days in ICU were peaceful. Diane’s loved ones visited, called to talk to her on speakerphone, and some even sang. Beth and I DJ’d her favorite artists for her. We laughed, and joked and remembered and cried. It was exactly where we were supposed to be. The nurses and techs were in and out frequently to care for her, change out her fluids and drips and run tests to make sure she was stable; echo, ultrasound, blood draws etc. It takes an incredible amount of work and energy to keep a person’s body alive and healthy when they have no brain function. Being an organ donor is not how I imagined, or had seen on TV. There was a lot of waiting. I learned no organs can be donated unless you die in the hospital on a respirator. The first day she was in that ICU her heart wasn’t up to snuff to be donated, but by the next day her body had “rested” and it was strong again. I vowed to remember this lesson about rest and the body's ability to recuperate when helped just a little. Diane was not a person who rested. Beth and I half joked that this was the first real rest we’d seen her take. It literally meant the difference between life or death for someone else! Incredible. 

When the time finally came for her to be taken to the OR to start the transplants we were resigned, hopeful and shaky too. The advocate from the organ donation organization explained that we would follow behind D’s hospital bed down the corridors to the big OR downstairs for an “Honor walk.” We fell into formation behind Diane’s mobile hospital bed with Beth’s sister-in-law, Jenny, and followed the doctors and Diane’s incredibly kind care nurse, Zoe, into a huge NASA looking elevator. Diane would have LOVED this, this and all the technology involved in keeping her body viable for donation. As the huge elevator doors opened a couple floors below we saw a sea of somber and respectful faces waiting for us. Doctors, nurses, staff and caregivers of every kind, from every part of the world were lining the halls as far as we could see. Beth and I shuddered with tears of awe. We each made one leg of a whole human, leaned into each other and walked each other forward behind Diane. I could not control my jaw, all I could do was swallow the tears that ran down my face and into the back of my throat. I was drowning in gratitude and transformation and incredulity. Beth and I would glance at each other and cry-laugh. We were in the presence of grace and human majesty. We were being looked upon by the humans who formed an apex of human goodness and respect. It felt like what the opposite of being riddled by bullets must feel like? We were different people now. Death is not one black, burnt end of a match. It is a wild gift that throws you around and surprises you continually. There are always gifts and insight and portals exquisitely crafted by the nimble hands of death; left on our pillows, in our throats, on a dew covered lawn… A bird who looks you in the eyes and stays too long, unafraid. 

The halls of faces stretched on for so long, and when finally came to the two large swinging doors of the OR our legs were so weak. “This is where we must leave you,” said the doctor to our left. Beth and I shook and said our goodbyes again. I looked at Beth. She was so present, so proud of Diane, so heartbroken and so singular in her strength. I felt a hot stab of grief for her, but pride swatted it away. She was positively heroic. We turned, drew Jenny into us and walked away. Time didn’t mean anything. Beth and Diane had been together for thirty-two perfectly imperfect one-of-a-kind years until this day. True love.

Please do four things for my beautiful friend Diane:

1. Stop being so quiet. Our beautiful LGBTQ and immigrant families are in danger. Fight like HELL, like your life depends on it, because it DOES. The long line of capable, caring people lining the hallways who save multiple lives EVERY SINGLE DAY were made of gay, straight, non-binary, trans, immigrant, Indigenous, Muslims, Jews, Christians, and every other person T***p and his toadies are heartlessly casting our nation’s “enemies.”  This is evil. Hitler For Dummies… 

Fight. 

2. Please, if you are not already, please become an organ donor. It’s really easy to change your status if you aren’t one at the moment. There are millions of people on the waiting lists, but only about fourty-five thousand people a year get the transplants they need. Here is the link…

https://www.organdonor.gov/sign-up

3. Learn CPR. Beth bringing back Diane’s pulse did not save Diane, but she may have saved several other lives by extension. It’s so worth it. 

And 4. (last but not least) Please donate to Squirrelwood sanctuary. Beth is going to need a lot of help in the next while, so lets show up for her. Thank you. I love you so. XO n

Diane and Chet share a coffee in my kitchen