The Journey of a Donor Family: Turning Loss Into Legacy

When people ask me how I keep going, I tell them the truth — I didn’t get a choice. Bree was our girl. Our firecracker. Our heart. And when the unthinkable happened, I had two options: crawl into the darkness or fight to find light in it.

I chose light. And faith. And family. I chose Bree’s Legacy.

I always say — as bad as it is, it could be worse. And while losing Bree will always be the greatest pain of my life, I also know we were blessed. Bree, in her wisdom well beyond her years, had made choices that gave us peace when we needed it most. At just 15 years old, she became an organ donor.

Here’s something most people don’t realize: even if you register as an organ donor, it’s still up to your family to honor that decision. So if you're reading this, please — talk to your people. Let them know what you want. Bree did that. And because she did, when the neurologist looked at me and said there was no brain activity, I didn’t hesitate. My very next words were, “We want to donate her organs.”

The truth is, we didn’t know much about the process then. In our shock and grief, we did what we could. Bree saved three lives. One of them is now part of our family — Renee, the recipient of Bree’s heart.

Renee is my bonus daughter in every sense of the word. She texts when I’m low. She calls when my eyes are full of tears. Sometimes she just needs one of those “what are you doing with your life” mom talks — and I’m happy to give it. Her presence doesn’t erase the loss, but it reminds me daily that Bree’s heart is still beating strong in this world. That kind of connection is indescribable.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t have days — sometimes multiple days — where I’m frozen. Where I can’t get out of bed. Where the grief just takes over. But only those closest to me ever know. They give me my space, but then they lovingly snap me out of it. That’s the beauty of having a strong village — they know when to sit in the dark with you and when to drag you back into the light.

Renee, like many recipients, has wrestled with guilt. Some are afraid to face the donor family. But we talk through it. We cry. We laugh. And I remind her — all I ask is that she keeps taking care of that heart. Because it’s a special one.

I also gained another soul in this journey — Brian, a liver recipient and one of the biggest champions of Bree’s Legacy. He’s family now, too. A walking, talking part of Bree’s story.

The truth is, this road isn’t easy. There are days when the grief is loud. But I have faith. I have a strong, ever-changing village around me — people who check me when I need it and hold me up when I can’t do it alone. Without them, I’d find all the excuses in the world to stay stuck.

Being a donor family doesn’t end with the decision to donate. It’s a lifetime of continuing the story your loved one started. It’s about taking something so painful and finding purpose in it. Bree gave the ultimate gift — and now it’s our job to carry that gift forward.

Talk to your family. Say yes to donation. You never know whose life you’ll change — or whose heart you’ll keep beating.