On Giving

Within minutes of their birth, my twin daughters were whisked off to the NICU at Michael Garron Hospital.  It was a numbing experience, one that I look back on easily detached from the moment, like a fly on the wall watching it all unfold.  Maybe the detachment was an act of self-preservation.  Or maybe it was just all too surreal.  Because it is WEIRD to birth children that you carried for many months, and then all of a sudden have them be taken away to an unknown location to become patients.

In the days that followed, I spent most of my time by their side in the NICU, watching them through the glass of their isolettes.  The nurses taught me how to change their diapers while being mindful of all the cords that monitored and fed them.  For a while, that was the most that I touched them.

One day, as they were beginning to thrive, I went to pick up a coffee from the hospital lobby.  I returned to the NICU where a nurse was finishing up a diaper change on one of the girls.  She then proceeded to dress them.  Like, in real baby clothes.  Until that point, they had only known diapers, cords and the warmth of their isolettes. 

Watching her button the onesie, I felt stunned.  For the first time I saw my girls as my babies, no longer patients.  I felt hope.  And joy.  So much joy!  I asked the nurse, where did the clothes come from?  She answered that they were donated by other moms.

With my son, I was already part of a hand-me-down train.  We had received used clothes from family and friends, and passed them on when he outgrew them.  All very practical. 

But those onesies, they meant something entirely different to me.

It struck me then, and sticks with me still.  I am privileged.  I am not in need.  I am blessed beyond all measure.  But in that moment, I was the recipient of someone’s “giving”.  This was a gift from someone whose perspective was also changed through a onesie.  Someone who knew the hope and joy that came from a onesie on a baby in the NICU.

The days that followed, I would return to the coffee shop in the lobby, but this time pausing for a moment in front of their donor recognition wall.  I wondered if the mom who donated the onesies had her name up there.  I wanted to know who she was.  I wanted to thank her.  But I also realized that maybe she didn't want or need to be known.  Whether she was on the wall or not, she knew when she gave the onesies what it would mean to a mom like me.  She already knew in her heart how grateful I was.   

It had me think about “giving”, “donations”, “charity” and “philanthropy”.  I was raised with the concepts of tithing and giving to those in need, but that onesie gave me a much broader lens on the purpose and meaning of giving.  It is undoubtedly important to give, and I think that our sometime awkwardness around how to give, can get in the way.

It is therefore quite serendipitous that the Planned Giving Committee at MGH has asked me to speak at their professional advisors’ breakfast next week on how to talk about philanthropy within families. 

As a wills and estates lawyer, I believe that preparing a Will isn’t just about getting this thing done and checked off the to-do list.  There is no doubt that it can be a very practical exercise, much like a hand-me-down train.  And absolutely: it’s about having peace of mind. 

But it can also be something more: it can be something you do, that does good, and that you can feel really good about. If you think about it, you could take something that really touched you, and give that moment power to continue giving. 

The end result?

The people who leave charitable donations in their Wills - no matter the form or amount - to people or causes close to their hearts, usually finish off the process with a sense of gladness and gratitude. 

I am lucky to be able to help people through this process, and to witness the ripple effects it carries through their families – whether during the donor's lifetime or on death. 

Something to think about…or better yet, talk about.