::poem:: organ donation

After my body is gone

Where will you find me?

Motherless daughters then, you and I.


You will never be motherless.

After I die, don’t bury me in a grave.

What if you want to move somewhere?

What if that amazing gig you didn’t even know you wanted comes along?

Then you can’t visit my grave.

You could cremate me and keep

my ashes

on a mantle

like an altar.


I don’t want to be stuck in a box.

Spread my ashes across the sea.

Bury my body under a new tree.

The place where the best of me can be visited

will always be with you.

Inside you.

In your heart.

Keep me there. It’s my favorite place anyway.

Embracing you with love and our frequent gales of laughter

as we collapse in hilarious wordless squeaking noises - tears running down our faces.

That’s where I am. In those tears of joy.

You are my heart walking around outside my body.

So that’s where I’ll be.

After my body dies.

melanie gillespie



“best choice I've made this year”

"Melanie has orchestrated content that brings me an ideal balance of reflection, connection, intention, and action."


—  Katie H.

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