The Benefit

Last night, my brother's employers hosted a benefit to help offset his medical expenses. The event went really well. There was a good crowd, and my brother was actually able to attend, which was nice. To see him on his crutches, greeting all these friends and family, you'd think that he hadn't just been in an accident three weeks ago. It's crazy the people that came. The aide from my kindergarten classroom showed up, along with the woman who worked in the office when I was in grammar school. A second cousin of mine (whom I haven't seen in years!) came, along with her mother (whom I haven't seen since my wedding). We had so many friends and family show up despite the fact that it was bitterly cold and a Monday to boot.

The greater community--the stores in the neighborhood where my brother worked, the people I work with, strangers who have happened to hear about the story on the news--has been unbelievable. A friend of mine at work made a good observation: The kindness and generosity that all of these people have come forward to give almost makes it easier to accept that someone out there hit my brother and left him to die. Yes, there are people in the world that could take a man's leg (or even his life) and not feel remorse, but there are also people out there--far more people--that will come forward to help a total stranger in a time of need. It's the truth. My brother ran into a guy at Watertower Place (while he was still at RIC) who had seen him on the news. This stranger pressed money into my brother's hands--despite my brother's gracious refusal. This man, who didn't know my brother from Adam, absolutely insisted on helping in some way. That, my friends, is something. That, in a way, is hope.

I created the poster pictured here for the benefit--just in case there were people attending who didn't know my brother's face. Of course, we didn't expect him to be there the entire time, which made the poster sort of a moot point. But my brother's reaction when he heard I was doing a photo collage was priceless. He said, "Why? I'm not dead!" And it's true. He's as not dead as you can get. In the end, it all comes down to that. Where there is life, there is hope.

To all the friends and family who have come forward to help--to offer thoughts and prayers or attend the benefit or visit Mike in the hospital or have him over for dinner or do any of the thousands of little things that have made the past few weeks a little bit easier--we thank you.