trudy's eyes

I think I may have mentioned a time or two that I'm a fan of Tony Shalhoub's character, Adrian Monk. Yes? Surely I have. He's a detective, formerly on the police force, but serves now as a consultant ever since the death of his beloved wife, Trudy.
Monk has a lot of quirks.
A lot of quirks.
Most people are willing to overlook those quirks, as he is so talented.
He has an assistant to help keep him stable, and to run interference for him, while he is solving murder cases.
The episode I just watched, "Mr. Monk Is Up All Night", was a bit different from the usual ones in the series. Amazingly, it also was one I did not recall ever seeing before.
Here's what happened (as Monk would say): He and his assistant are walking along in their hometown of San Francisco, just diddy-bopping along, and he gets bumped by a woman passing by. They all stop, she apologizes, and ... Monk feels compelled to follow her. He loses her in the traffic and the crowd. When his trusty assistant asks why? Did you know her? What's going on?, he has to tell her that he doesn't know why, that he has never seen the woman before, that he simply felt he had to follow her.
The man has a photographic memory. If he says he's never seen someone before, you can bet good money that he has never seen them before.
Odd, right?
So, I watched.
His not understanding his own actions keeps him awake at night. He calls his assistant and she suggests he take a walk, which he does.
There's a great scene where he is walking by a row of late-night businesses. As he approaches each one on the block, its lights are turned out, leaving him in the dark.
Get it?
Fabulous visualization.
So, a little later, a taxi pulls up beside him and the driver, a woman, asks if he needs a ride. He leans down to look into the passenger-side window, saying as he does so, "no, thank you" - and recognizes the driver as the woman he had been following earlier! But, too late! She is already pulling away before he can try to stop her. Oh, no!
And the chase continues throughout the show. (Another storyline is also unwinding as he deals with his dilemma, but you'll have to watch the episode yourself for that one.)
Meanwhile, all who know him are also mystified with his obsession with this unknown woman. Is he in love with her? Does he know her after all, but has forgotten her somehow? Is his famous memory having a lapse?
At last, they meet. What is it about her face that so attracts and distracts him? Wait, not her entire face - no, her eyes. There is something about her eyes...
Her eyes? She tells him of the birth defect that had left her blind until just a few years ago, of the transplant she had received, like a miracle, from a woman who had just died. And when she tells him the date, he echoes it back to her. It was the date his beloved Trudy had been killed by a car bomb. The eyes were Trudy's eyes.
And the woman is crying and he touches her tears, oh so softly, with his fingertips. This man who has a phobia about touching anything is trying to make contact with his dead wife through the tears coming from her eyes in a stranger's face.
And he leans forward and touches his forehead to hers.
And the woman says, as she sobs, "oh, I am so sorry, I am so sorry."
And the show ends with them standing just like that, heads touching, shoulders bowed, as the light goes to dusk on the street.
It was a very emotional moment for us all: Monk, the woman, and me.

I've always been a proponent of organ donation. I'm an organ donor and have been ever since my teen years. I guess it goes along with my "reduce, reuse, recycle" mentality and my altruism and general attempts to make this world a better place, one starfish at a time.
After all, parts are parts. Once the soul has left the building, so to speak, then the building can be dismantled and used for new construction. Anything which will help someone's mother or dad or loved one to live longer is a good thing, right?
But I must admit I haven't ever given any thought to the possible effect on family members of donors. After all, most transplants occur deep below skin level: hearts, lungs, livers, kidneys. No possibility of recognition of a dear departed loved one's internal organs should one happen upon the recipient on the street, now is there?
No.
However, what about the living who receive skin grafts or corneal transplants, as in this episode? What might be the chances that a family member of that donor might recognize the placement of a mole, a shading of skin tone, the reflection of light upon the eyes? What then?
I'm sure the issue doesn't arise often, if ever, in the real world.
The real world is not populated by a vast majority of people with eidetic memories.
Monk has such a memory and was able to recognize the corneas of his dead wife.
But, as my ex was fond of saying, Monk is a "poor little fictional character".
Still, it does give one pause, n'est-ce pas?