Poem: Cellular Memory
I wrote this poem after reading the psychological thriller “The Gift” by Louise Jensen, whose blog I followed long before I started reading her books. And the ones I’ve read so far are fantastic!
“The Gift” deals with cellular memory and I started thinking about what memories I would pass on.
They say recipients of organs
sometimes have sparks of the donor
surface in their lives.
Like the craving of Cheetos,
or something they previously didn’t like,
or traces of memories, knowledge of a foreign language,
or a sudden talent for playing the piccolo. Things
not possessed before the transplant.
Which makes me wonder
if I were to be a donor
what remnants of me
would seep through?
Would the recipient be overwhelmed
by inexplicable grief from the sorrow that’s
infiltrated every fiber of my body?
Maybe an unquenchable desire to write
would keep them awake at night.
Or maybe they’d suddenly know God
and the truth of Him would echo through their bones as
my cells intertwined with theirs to keep them alive
even though I died.
Maybe it would be a burden to
carry a piece of someone else
or perhaps it’d be a treasure to know
they would never be alone on their journey.
Here’s my question to you: If you were an organ donor, what memories do you think you’d pass on to the recipient?
“If you were an organ donor, what memories do you think you’d pass on to the recipient?” That is a good question. I hope that I would pass good memories to them. Maybe my ability to crack up over random stupid videos. My sense of wonder and curiosity. My off-beat sense of humor. My love of writing.
Maybe I’ll hand over my Internal Editor with his wire-rimmed glasses and enormous bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups (just the original, no newfangled ones. Don’t mind him. He’s very particular.) I wonder if they would be surprised by his sudden appearance in their head.
Maybe certain lines in certain books will hit them the same way that those lines hit me. Like Connor’s secret truth from “A Monster Calls”. When I read that particular line, I hadn’t been expecting it. It hit me hard and made me go, “Ohh!” literally out loud. Not going to say what that line was, though. No spoilers happening in this comment. 😉
Maybe it would be something a whole lot more subtle. Maybe it will be something that is closely aligned to something that is already a part of who they are. So, they won’t even know that it was a part of me too.
It would be interesting if the recipient’s humor changed. Like you mentioned, laughing at stupid videos and gaining off-beat humor. Finding enjoyment from things they wouldn’t have found amusing before.
Or that feeling of having read a book before that they know they haven’t read.
I like all your ideas of what you might pass on. 🙂 Even your very particular internal editor.
Just thinking about it makes me want to write a story about it. I’m not sure how the story would end, but it would be interesting to give it a try. Just to see where I could take that idea. 🙂
I think that’s a great idea!
Thank you! 😀
Great poem, Mandie! To answer your question, well, I’ll pass on my love for the Creator.
Thank you, dear. And that’s a wonderful answer.
You’re welcome and thank you.