Posted in Personal Blog

March Favorites

If you’re a March baby & Pisces raise your hand!

Since my birthday is on the 7th of March I decided to do a “March Favorites” blog-post. Check out all the cool things I found below;


I just can’t get enough of candles in general, if they’re scented that’s even better! Here’s a few I found at Mr Price Home which is one of my favorite places to shop at. To purchase any of these amazing candles just click here!



Warm feet are HAPPY feet! I found these super soft slippers at Woolworths and they are only R85.00! That’s a steal! If you want a pair just click here!



If you’re trying to get on that health-grind this is a must! Steaming your veggies is a great way of keeping maximum nutrients. This one is available from Yuppiechef and even comes with a recipe card! Click here to check it out!



The Body Shop is filled with AMAZING products but this one is my favorite. The Fuji Green Tea scrub is something out of this world. It’s my absolute favorite and leaves your skin feeling soft and smelling amazing. Trust me, you’ll walk around sniffing your hands and arms all day, and yes you’ll look like a crazy person but won’t care. It’s a must!



Warm blankets are great for those cold winter evenings in front of the fireplace or television. Mr Price Home has so many to choose from but I loved this wine color. To get one for yourself (or me) click here!


That’s it for my March Favorites!


Posted in Recipes

RECIPE: Bacon & Spinach Egg Cups

Hi everyone! Happy Wednesday, aka hump day! We are one step closer to Friday or should I say Friyay!? No … ok then.

This morning I decided that I have way too much time on my hands not to make breakfast cups, and I’m here to share the recipe. Well, not really a recipe, more like instructions. Are you ready? Let’s go!


Normally you would use a muffin-tin for these types of things but I wanted to use the silicone cups I bought but only used once before. Just thought they would look really cute plus I won’t have to fit an entire muffin-tin into the dishwasher. It’s a win-win really.


4 eggs seemed like a good amount (it wasn’t, use 5, trust me on this one). I did add a little bit of milk to them but you don’t have to.


Next I added the bacon and spinach. Note I didn’t cook the bacon because if I wanted to dirty a pan for this I would have just sticked with the traditional way of preparing a breakfast so, here’s to hoping the bacon will cook through and we won’t be poisoned. You can add as much or as little bacon and spinach as you want, totally up to you.


Lastly I season them with a little salt and pepper on top and put them in the oven (200 degrees celsius) for 25 minutes.

I think they turned out pretty cute, what do you think?


Happy Cooking!



Posted in Challenge, Short Strory

Eye contact


I once was a perfectly happy and healthy thirteen-year-old girl. It all changed when I walked into our living room one Saturday morning and saw my parents on the couch with a letter.

“Why are you guys acting weird over a piece of paper”? I asked and folded my legs under me on the couch.

“Dad got promoted and he is being offered a position on the other side of the island” my mom said not making eye contact.

It took me a second to process the information.

“Dad is not going to take it right? I mean, you wouldn’t do that to me? A new school? All my friends are here” I said in a panicked voice.

My mom looked at my dad, waiting for him to respond. He looked up at me and I could see that he already made up his mind.

“I’m taking the job honey. This is an opportunity I am not willing to pass on. You’ll make new friends, I promise”.

➵                                 ➵                                ➵                                   ➵                                 ➵

And that was that. A month later all of our belongings was loaded into the back of a moving truck and we were on our way to the other side of the island. I was still angry but I knew that at this stage I had no leg to stand on. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, or maybe it would. Little did I know that my life was about to change.

➵                                 ➵                                ➵                                   ➵                                 ➵

I started school the following Monday. After first period I briefly made eye contact with a girl who was in no doubt the mean girl of the school. I could see that she was on her way over to me so I ducked into the nearest bathroom, hoping she didn’t see me. I really didn’t want any drama. It took seconds for them to barge through the door. I continued to wash my hands, trying not to look at her. Maybe if I pretended she wasn’t there she would go away. I knew girls like her and I knew perfectly well what they were capable of.

“Excuse me” I said in the softest most polite way possible and tried to get past her to get out the door. She grabbed me by my throat and shoved me against the cold wall behind me. This of course took me by complete surprise.

“You made eye contact, everyone knows that forbidden” she hissed at me.

I was frozen. I couldn’t do or say anything. I wanted to roll my eyes at her. People weren’t allowed to make eye contact with her? Who did this girl think she was, the queen? Her friends laughed.

“Never look at me again you filthy hag” she hissed again and let go of her grip on my throat. She walked out the room and her clan followed.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I didn’t know what to do or what to think. I grabbed my backpack and headed outside to get some fresh air, promising myself that I would stay out of her way as far as possible. If I left her alone I’m sure she would leave me alone. Boy, was I wrong.

The bullying and harassment continued for the weeks to follow. Every opportunity she got to embarrass me or  physically hurt me she used. Her friends joined in on the fun and I could feel myself quickly slip into depression. I never understood why they were doing this to me? Was it because I was the new girl? I didn’t understand. Why me?

I never told my parents. I guess I should have but I just didn’t want to hassle them with this.

➵                                 ➵                                ➵                                   ➵                                 ➵

Neon pink and orange flyers were being distributed throughout the school. One landed on my desk in third period. It was a party. The boy behind me tapped me on my shoulder and I turned around.

“You should come” he said, pointing at the flyer.

I smiled and nodded. This was the first party I was invited to since I got here. Well, not like this was an invitation but still. I was excited and went shopping with my mom that afternoon for an outfit.

Music was blaring as I walked up the driveway. I opened the front door and was surprised by all the people there. It was nothing like the parties I was used to that’s for sure. I walked around looking for a spot to sit when I noticed them. I looked away and turned my back. I didn’t want to look at her and cause a scene. Unfortunately she noticed me and came right over. Great.

She grabbed me by my hair and forced me into a room nearby.

“What are you doing here?” She asked through clenched teeth.

“It’s a party half of the school was invited to” I snapped back.

She tightened her grip and shoved my head into the drawer standing next to the bed.

I screamed which made her more angry and more violent. After a few punches to the head I could feel more and more warm liquid dripping from my head and it wasn’t long before I blacked out.

➵                                 ➵                                ➵                                   ➵                                 ➵

I once was a perfectly happy and healthy thirteen-year-old girl until I met a girl who disliked me for no reason. I was happy and healthy until I came across a girl who was angry at the world and took it out on me. I was in a coma for seven months. Not only did she bash my head in but she also dumped me in the swimming pool and it took a while for someone to notice that there was a lifeless body floating.

My parents took her to court, her case is pending. I was a happy and healthy thirteen-yearh-old girl until I was put in a coma for seven months. Perhaps we could have moved away? Perhaps I could have gone back to my old school? Perhaps it would have all worked out? I won’t ever have the answer for that. I was in a coma for seven months and then passed away.


Posted in Challenge, Short Strory

Outside My Window


Most people enjoy the sunshine and being outside in the open, fresh air filling their lungs, feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin.I’ve never been one of those people.

It’s difficult to explain. I have always craved to be by myself, for people to just leave me alone and let me be. The thought of going outside, my feet touching the grass, bugs flying over me and the sun burning my pale skin has always been something that triggered panic attacks.

It didn’t help that my parents forced me to play outside, to jump in puddles after a rainstorm, to climb trees, riding my bike and run around with the other kids in the neighborhood. It broke me, psychologically it broke me.

Each time we would have an ‘episode’ as my parents called it, it broke out into a fight. Both my siblings and parents wanted me to play outside and be ‘normal’. All I wanted to do was be in the comfort of our home, watching television or poking around on the internet. I loved reading, I loved writing screenplays and building make-believe stages. I had no desire to be an actor or comedian, I just wanted to be behind the scenes.

No one understood me. I was completely alone.

One night at the dinner table, my parents insisted that I speak to a therapist. They made arrangements for doctor Pelgrim to come to our home. She was beautiful and friendly. She made herself comfortable on the light-brown suede sofa and wrote something in her notebook. I stared at her without saying anything. She stared back, smiled and then wrote something else.

“Do you know what is wrong with me yet”? I asked and studied her face for a moment. She looked up from her notebook frowning. Her lips, covered in red lipstick parted, as if she wanted to say something but closed them again while writing something else in her notebook. Finally she looked up at me, still frowning. “William, why do you think there’s something wrong with you”? She asked.

I stared at her. I sure hope my parents wasn’t paying her whole lot, she was a therapist after all. If my parents and half of the town could see there is something wrong with me, how could she not? I didn’t answer. Instead I stared out the living room window to where my siblings were playing on the tree-swing.

“William, you need to come to the realization that there is nothing ‘wrong’ with you. This is just the way you are wired. You are different, the way you think, the way you act, it’s all different. That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you”. She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes. She was right. I was just different. There wasn’t anything wrong with me. She got up and headed for the door.

“I will see you next week, same time, same place” she called over her shoulder before she sprinted to her car. I sat in silence for a while, staring out the window, not a hundred percent convinced that I wanted to be different.

My mother came into the room, looked at the empty chair and then at me. “Where’s Mrs Pelgrim”? she asked. “Did you scare her away”? she scolded and hurried out the front door. Did I? But she said that she would be back next week? I was confused. I could see my mother crying and my father hugging her. They were arguing, again. I didn’t want to be different.

My brother Charles came through the backdoor, he stared at me and then laughed, I could hear him calling me a freak under his breath as he headed upstairs to his room. I was not a freak, I was just different.

I ran up to my room and locked the door. I wanted to be alone. Mrs Pelgrim was right, there is nothing wrong with me. Anger started to build up inside of me. My parents, my siblings, I was going to show them how wrong they are about me. My fingers started typing on the black keyboard and for the next two hours I researched every website I could find.

Mom finally called us all downstairs for dinner and I made my way to the dining room table. I took my usual seat and mother dished mashed potatoes, roasted pork and green-beans. Father said a prayer and we ate in silence. After dinner, Mary-Louise helped mother clear the table and Charles went with father to the living room to watch television.

I put on my coat, a hat and two pairs of socks and gloves and headed for the shed that stood behind our house. Father kept his garden tools hidden away but I knew where the key was. I took what I needed and hurried back inside.

After what seemed like ages everyone headed upstairs to go to bed and get some rest. I went to my room and prepared myself for what I was about to do next. There was nothing wrong with me, I was just different. Why couldn’t they understand that? I took care of mother and father first, it was bloody and they screamed. Charles came running into the room to see what was going on but I took care of him as well. Mary-Louise came running down the hall and stopped in her tracks when she saw me. She cried and reached out to me to hand over the shovel. I did. I loved Mary-Louise and her kind hearted nature.

The police came. There was blood everywhere. The detective took me to the station and now, now I’m staring out my window overlooking a concrete yard. Do I miss my old life? No. I miss Mary-Louise but she visits me often. Mother and Father came to visit once but Charles is still angry. They are all moving away. I got what I wanted.

There’s nothing wrong with me I am just different.


Word Count: 1001

Posted in Uncategorized

30 Writing Prompts — Challenge —


30 Writing prompts to choose from, the challenge is, that you have to write about all of them. Now this can be done over days, weeks or even months, there is no time frame however there is a maximum word count for each of them. (The word count will be listed in brackets next to the prompt/title)

I decided to take on the challenge and see how far I get with these myself. I’m hoping I can do at least ONE a week (hoping for the best). So let’s take a look at the prompts;

1. Outside My Window (1000)
2. Eye Contact (3000)
3. A poem that starts with the word “hello” (500)
4. The Addict (2500)
5. Dread (1500)
6. Behind Closed Doors (1000)
7. The Shadow / The Shadow Figure (2500)
8. The Sound of Silence (3000)
9. Dear Diary (1500)
10. The Photograph (1000)
11. Alarm Clock (1500)
12. Darkness (1000)
13. Handle with Care (1500)
14. Slip Up (2500)
15. Dollhouse (3000)
16. Rewrite a Fairy Tale (2000)
17. A Secret Message (3000)
18. Vacation (3000)
19. Spellbinding: Write a magic spell (1000)
20. Carnival (2000)
21. The Forgotten Staircase (1000)
22. New Neighbors (3000)
23. The Promise (1000)
24. You’ve got Mail (2500)
25. Left Out (1500)
26. Copycat (1000)
27. Tech Support (500)
28. Hotel (3000)
29. Liar, Liar (2500)
30. Night at the Casino (1000)
You can make these your own, pick one and write about anything!
You fail only if you stop writing – Ray Bradbury
Let the challenge begin!
Ps: Leave a link to the ones you’ve written so I can go and comment on them!
Posted in Kortverhaal

Die Swembadopsigter {Graad 11 Opstel}

Hierdie is ‘n opstel wat ek vir my sussie geskryf het. ‘n Graad 11 opstel.


Die dorp swembad is in rep en roer vandag. Met die son wat gaan stil staan het bo-kant die dorpie het die meerderheid besluit om vandag liewer by die swembad te spandeer. Daar is ‘n skare mense en die Van Heerden’s sukkel om ‘n gaatjie te kry waar hulle die piekniek kombers kan oopgooi.

“Liewe genade bokkie kyk hoeveel mense is hier vandag” roep Susan uit terwyl sy vir klein Johantjie insmeer met hopeloos te veel sonbrandskerm.

Johan senior is besig om die aangelapte sambreel in die gras te steek en verloor amper ‘n duim-nael in die proses.

“Mamma ek se vir jou dis warm, die son staan stil en ons sal die kinders moet dophou, jy weet nooit wat kan gebeur nie” antwoord hy bekommerd.

Daantjie staan gereed sodat sy swemvlerkies opgeblaas kan word. Willemien grawe in die piekniek-mandjie opsoek na iets koel om te drink. Johantjie is reeds water toe.

“Bokkie, kyk” fluister Susan vir Johan.

“Is dit nie daardie nuwe swembadopsigter nie? Hy lyk darem vreeslik nors”

Johan ruk amper sy nek af soos hy probeer kyk en maak dan oogkontak. Hy groet verlee en draai dan weer terug.

“Ja mamma dis hy, hy moet seker maar so kwaai wees, ek sou ook wees met ‘n dorp soos die.”


Check daar ouens, dis mos daardie nuwe ou wat die swembad moet oppas. Ek se julle, daar is iets fishy aan daai ou oomie hoor” se Mari terwyl sy haar kougom kou.

Issit? Soos wat dink jy?” vra Carla met groot oe en sit nader om mooi te kan hoor.

“Ek het gehoor hy is gefire by sy vorige werk omdat hulle iets fishy gesien het” se Willem.

“Ag Willem hou op lieg” skel Mari. “Jy’t boggerol gehoor nie, moenie na Willem luister nie hy soek net aandag”.

“Is nie Mari ek het dit gehoor!” kap Willem terug.

“Nou vertel ons dan wat is so fishy wat die vorige mense gesien het”? vra Zander.

Willem bly ‘n rukkie stil, nie seker of hy sy geheime moet verklap nie. Die ander wag aandagtig.

“Ek het by Floris gehoor, die oom het ‘n track record om weird goed in die water te laat spuit sodat die dorps mense siek raak en dan… jy weet… sterf”.

Die ander is nou doodstil en Mari kou steeds aan haar kougom.

“Se nou net hy spuit goed in ons water? Hier is baie mense vandag ons gaan mos op ‘n streep vrek” se Carla bekommerd.

“Ons sal hom net moet watch man dis al” se Zander en loer onderlangs na die opsigter.

“Ek het ‘n plan” fluister Mari. “Vanaand as almal weg is gaan kruip ons in die stort weg. Ons kan so ‘n bietjie spy op hom en kyk wat hy alles in daardie stoorkamer daar agter wegsteek. As daar iets is om te vind sal ons dit kry”.


“Mamma vir wat staan jy dan so ingedagte” vra Johan terwyl hy Susan se skouers maseer.

“Ag bokkie ek dink sommer. My maag is onderstebo, ek weet nie of dit dalk die son is en of ons iets verkeerd geeet het nie” kla sy terwyl sy die maalvleis in die pan braai.

“Nou gaan le ‘n bietjie, ek sal hier aangaan. Toe toe, kom in die bed” jaag Johan haar kamer toe.

Willemien loer na Daantjie.

“Daantjie” fluister sy sag “Jy weet hier loop stories rond van daardie nuwe swembadopsigter. Nou is ma siek. Dit kan net hy wees”.

Daantjie loer kamer se kant toe en da weer terug na die televisie. “Sjuuuuu my storie is gaan nou begin”.


Die ligte by die dorp swembad word afgeskakel en die vier hoor hoe die buite hek gesluit word.

“Mari, hoe gaan ons hier uitkom vannag” fluister Zander.

“Moenie worry nie man ons sal ‘n plan maak, kom net” fluister sy terug en maak dan versigtig die deur na die buite vertrek oop.

“Dis gesluit. Ons moet iets soek om die slot mee te breek” fluister Carla

“Wat maak julle hier!” roep ‘n stem skielik van agter.

Die vier ruk soos hulle skrik en draai onmiddelik om. Die swembadopsigter staan kwaad en nors voor hulle.

“Jammer oom, ons het aan die slaap geraak en soek ‘n sleutel om by die hek uit te kom” maak Zander verskoning en Mari rol haar oe.

Die opsigter staar na hulle sonder om ‘n woord te se.

“Gaan oom ons nou doodmaak”? vra Willem.

Die opsigter frons en begin dan te lag. Eers sag en dan uit volle bors.

“Nou wat is dan nou so funny hmm?” vra Mari geirriteerd.

“Julle praat seker van die stories wat rondloop oor hoekom ek by my vorige werk weg is. Wel ek het iemand doodgemaak nie, ek het sommer self daardie stories versprei om kinders uit die dorp swembad na ure te hou, kom, stap saam dan sluit ek die hek vir julle ook”.

Die vier kyk na mekaar en stap dan saam met die opsigter. Hulle stap deur die gebou wat lei na die groot hek en stop meteens. In die hoek van die ontvangs-area staan ‘n groen bottel met ‘n kopbeen bo-op geteken. Die vier stop in hul spore.


“En hoe verduidelik jy dit”? roep Mari uit.

Die opsigter draai om om te sien wat die oponthoud is. ‘n Glimlag vorm om sy geplooide gesig.

“O dit? Dit gebruik ek om kinders soos julle aan die slaap te maak voor ek hulle doodmaak!” roep hy uit terwyl hy die deur na buite sluit…


Posted in Short Strory

The Donor

This is probably one of the most emotional short stories I have ever written. Be sure that I have shed some tears while writing this. I have decided to enter this in a writing competition. Before I do, I would love some feedback. Feel free to comment down below.



I could hear Amy in the bathroom. I jumped out of bed and hurried over to her as fast as I could. She was hurled over the loo, throwing up. I bundled her hair out of the way, my poor baby. It must have been something she ate. She was crying. I helped her wash her face and took her back to bed.


The bathroom light woke me up. Tom wasn’t next to me. We met each other in the hallway. He told me Amy was still not feeling well and still throwing up. I walked down the stair and opened the medicine cabinet. I ran back upstairs with packages of over the counter medication, confident they will make whatever she had go away.


It didn’t. Lucy and Peter sat at the breakfast table and played games on Tom’s Ipad, oblivious to what was going on. Tom dropped them off and headed to work. I kept Amy at home. I wanted to make sure that she was fine before I took her back to school. No point in her transferring whatever bug this was to the other kids.


Looking back to the events that occurred only one week ago, I was certain that it was only a ‘bug’. If only I had reacted sooner. That night I brought her into the emergency room. The doctor on duty took one look at her and called in the pediatrician.

“Excuse me, doctor?” I said in a whisper.

“Will my Amy be alright”? a sound of panic overwhelming my voice.

He looked at me, I could see it in his eyes, he was worried. He didn’t have an answer and here I was asking him the one question he didn’t have the answer to.

“We need to wait for doctor Macy and then run some tests. At this stage, I’m afraid I am unable to make a diagnosis”.

And that was the end of our discussion. I returned to my seat. Amy was pale, clutching the plastic bucket to her chest like it was a life-line. I took my phone out of my purse and dialed Tom’s number. He was still at the office. He answered on the third ring.

“Tom, you need to come down to the hospital, it’s Amy”

There was silence on the other end. I checked the screen of my phone to make sure that the call didn’t disconnect but the timer was still going.

I heard Tom sigh.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can” he said and disconnected the call.

I couldn’t understand it. I felt confused and hurt. We could deal with that later. Right now, I needed to focus on Amy. Doctor Macy and Tom arrived at the hospital together. She was a beautiful woman. Tall, blonde and looked as if she belonged in an issue of Vogue rather than in a white coat in a hospital.


After what felt like hours of tests, needles and paperwork she told us to leave Amy for observation and to go get some rest. Lucy and Peter was home with Linda our neighbor and suddenly I had the urge to get to them as soon as I possibly could.

I didn’t speak to Tom much. He went into his study as soon as we got home. It was just after 1am so I decided to take a shower and head to bed. I needed to get some sleep, to be there for Amy later that morning.


The shrieking of the telephone on my bedside table woke me up. An unfamiliar number flashed on my screen. I answered in an I-just-woke-up-voice, even though I was trying my best to hide it.

“Mrs Bains, this is doctor Macy. We received the results back from the laboratory. I am going to need you and Mr Bains to come see me as soon as possible”

My stomach sank to my feet. I’ve seen this happen in movies. They usually don’t give you bad news over the phone. This is bad.

“I will… I mean, we will be there in an hour, thank you doctor”.

I sat in silence, a million thoughts rushed through my head. Was Amy going to be alright, what was wrong with her? Is it something they can cure? When can she come home?

Doctor Macy’s office was as elegant and gorgeous as she was. Tom seemed nervous. I was glad that he finally seemed as if though he cared. Maybe he did, maybe he just didn’t know how to deal with Amy being in hospital. Doctor Macy sat opposite us, browsing through Amy’s file and then looked up.

“Mr and Mrs Bains, this is never an easy conversation to have”

What does that mean? I knew this was going to be bad news. I prepared myself as well as I could.

“Amy is suffering from cardiomyopathy. This means that her heart muscle is not functioning the way it is supposed to, the way a normal child’s heart would function. The muscle does not pump enough blood to the body, something that could end up being fatal”.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew something was wrong with my baby but I never in a million years expected this. Tom’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“What are our options? Surely there must be something you can do for her?”

Doctor Macy nodded. Thank God.

“There is. Unfortunately, Mr and Mrs Bains, this is a long road ahead of you. We need to get Amy a heart transplant as soon as possible. I am going to refer you to the transplant center just down the road from us. They have amazing surgeons, cardiologists and transplant coordinators that will be able to assist you and answer all your questions”.

Tom looked at me, the look in his eyes reassured me that everything is going to be alright.


I can’t imagine any parent going through the emotional strain we have gone through in the last two weeks. I am emotionally and physically drained. Every day I wake up not knowing if I’ll have the energy to make it through another round of tests, biopsy’s, EKG’s not even to mention the mountains and mountains of paperwork. In the end this will all be worth it.

Doctor Ramsay, the cardiologist working with Amy has called me into his office. Tom was unable to make the meeting, something about a business meeting he couldn’t get out of. I was too tired to fight with him.

“Mrs Bains, I have some good news”

I smiled, something I haven’t done in what felt like ages.

“We found a donor for Amy”.

Doctor Ramsay was right. This was indeed good news. I was overwhelmed and started crying. It felt good to cry. It felt good to let all those bottled-up emotions run free.

“Walk with me, we can go see him” doctor Ramsay said and motioned for me to follow him.

He opened the door to a single room. There were machines everywhere. Monitor’s, tubes and Iv stands. And then I saw him. My eyes filled up with tears. I went over to him. I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t see anyone else in the room. I took his hand in mine. It was cold. He didn’t move. I cried. Before me was a beautiful young man, not a day older than sixteen. He looked peaceful. I blinked and looked up, staring into the faces of his parents.

His mother came to me and hugged me and held me. We both cried. Her son was being a donor for my daughter? How could this be?

As if reading my mind, she let me go.

“This is Michael. He is our teenage boy and shot himself in our barn. He was a victim of cyber bullying. We only found out after… There is nothing more the doctors can do for him.  We have lost our baby boy and he wants to help your daughter”.

A confused look crept across my face. Did he know Amy? How?

“Michael left a final note asking that we donate his organs” his father said in a raspy voice.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon with Michael and his parents. I felt relieved and extremely overwhelmed all at the same time. How cruel is this life that one had to die for another to live? I felt guilty. I learned a lot about Michael that day. I learned that he loved horses, just as much as Amy does. He had a fear of heights and he volunteered at the old age home just a few blocks away. I learned that he had a passion for music, and taught himself how to play the piano. I learned that he was a good boy with straight A’s and that his biggest dream was to be on Broadway.

This was a spectacular young man who accomplished so much in his short life. I wanted to pay tribute to him and so I promised him and his parents that I would tell Amy all about Michael and we would stay in touch with them and let them know how Amy is doing with Michael’s heart.


It was well after 9pm when I got home. I felt guilty for being at the hospital all day and not spending time with Tom or the other children. I could see the light of his study still on and slowly pushed open the door, to tell him about the exciting news.

My heart stopped beating. I didn’t know how to react or what to do.

“Doctor Macy?” I shouted, shock and anger in my voice.

“Cathy, I can explain” I heard Tom say as I rushed out of the study and got into my car.

Tom was cheating on me with our pediatrician? Is that why he was always working late? Is that why they both showed up at the hospital at the same time? None of this made sense. How could he do this to us? How could he do this to Amy?


“Without the organ donor, there is no story, no hope, no transplant. But when there is an organ donor, life springs from death, sorrow turns to hope and a terrible loss becomes a gift” – UNOS

I wanted to be strong for Amy, for Michael and for his parents. We all said our final goodbyes to Michael and then headed out for his parents to say a special last goodbye. They walked with me to the theater where we said “See you soon” to Amy. She was the bravest ten-year-old I knew and was about to have a heart surgery. I waved to her, my brave little soul until the doors closed behind them.

It has been ten years since my baby girl had a heart transplant. She still loves horses, she volunteers at the old age home just a few blocks from where we live, she loves music and is taking piano classes. She signed up for acting classes and visits Michael’s grave at least once a week.

Tom is not a part of my life anymore. Amy visits him every second weekend. My heart is still healing. It will take a while but I am optimistic. Amy made a promise to Michael that she will take his heart to Broadway. Her first audition is in a few weeks and she has been practicing and rehearsing like there’s no tomorrow. I am so proud of my brave little soul.

Know that I am grateful

for the life you gave to me.

May my life give you light

wherever you may be.

And may my life bring comfort

from the pain that hurts you so:

we are strangers now a family,

wherever we may go.

And may the life that lives in me

shine the light so all can see

that life goes on ironically

when we choose to donate life,

so hope will live eternally.

Poem = Copyright Daniel Mark Extrom 2009-2012. All rights reserved.

Donate Life!

LC xox