Part 2
They took Ansley in at 7 o’clock in the morning.
She waved at me from her bed and mouthed, “Uno.”
Two hours later, it was my turn.
The last thing I remember is Jenelle holding my hand and whispering, “I’m right here.”
When I opened my eyes, everything felt heavy. There were tubes everywhere.
A nurse smiled at me and said something I will never forget:
“Your new kidney started working right away. It’s already doing its job.”
Jenelle was crying again. But this time, they were happy tears.
But I only had one question.
“Where’s Ansley?”
Nobody answered. My heart started beating so fast the monitor got louder.
Then the door opened.
A nurse was pushing a wheelchair. Ansley was sitting in it, pale and tired, holding a pillow against her stomach.
She looked at me and said,
“You didn’t think I’d let you win by default, did you?”
I cried so hard the nurse had to remind me about my stitches.
Then Ansley pulled something out from under her blanket.
It was my sign. The one I wrote the night before.
The nurse had given it to her before her surgery.
Under my words, in her handwriting, she had written:
“Please take care of my brother first.”
She said, “We were both asking for the same thing. So I guess they had to take care of both of us.”
Ansley went home two days later. I stayed for a week.
She called me every single night.
That was three months ago.
I don’t go to dialysis anymore.
I don’t sit in that chair for four hours.
Last week, I sat in the front row at Mattie’s school play. The first one I didn’t miss in two years.
And every Sunday, Ansley comes over and we play Uno at the kitchen table.
Mattie always sits on Aunt Ansley’s side.
I still owe her 87 games.
Jenelle framed both signs and hung them in the hallway, side by side.
Every time I walk past them, I remember that the bravest person in my story isn’t me.
It’s the little sister who gave a part of herself… so her big brother could stay.
If this story touched your heart, please send Ansley and Wesley a ❤️
And tell us: who is the person who would do this for you?