Brothers

This past Tuesday, my father and I traveled to Atlanta to pack my brother's belongings into a U-Haul truck. It felt as though we were haphazardly putting Michael's life as he knew it into storage, unsure of whether he'd ever be able to reclaim it completely. The experience was unsettling. Thank you Pat and Brandon for helping, and those who offered to do so.

Michael has shown steady improvement in several areas. His brain is splintered into areas of normalcy, and areas of infancy. At times I speak to him as if he's child, and he surprises me with his trademark wit and awareness, mocking me at the relative absurdity of my question or comment. Moments later, he fails to comprehend a basic function or distinction. Honestly, much of it would be very humorous if we were assured of a complete recovery (it's often humorous regardless : ). However, we are not assured of anything, and the prospect of the worst is increasingly burdensome on my family, despite our hope and optimism for the best. We hope that after the infection and inflammation subside that the areas most affected return to normal. Wait and see, wait and see, wait and see. A shitty proposition to say the least....

Michael called me last night and this morning. T'was (inside joke between him and I) incredible.

Michael has incredible friendships. Tonight, eight of his friends gathered for the UT bowl game. People were seated on the floor and staircase in what can best be described as uncomfortable conditions. At one point it struck me (and I commented as much) that we were watching a UT bowl game, and not one person had so much as cracked a beer. It was inspiring to see that amongst a group of die-hard Tennessee fans the game really didn't matter. A frustrating defeat didn't so much as register, and all that mattered was that everyone present wanted to be there for their friend. This is a tribute to Michael as a person, and those who he has chosen to befriend. Thank you to everyone who was there and has been there since this began, and everyone who wished they were (I know that there are many, and you are no less appreciated).

Everyone who contributes to this blog wants to keep all apprised of Michael's improvements, but often the message is misleading since many are unaware of his condition. I'm glad that Maisie and my dad do as much, because often the grief clouds my recognition of the real progress Michael is making. We report the positive, because despite our doubts we believe that Michael will be one hundred percent again. Michael is still Michael. Whatever damage has been done to his brain will not change that. He still has the ability to make all around him laugh and smile, and his aura is no less charismatic or inspiring. The healing process is continuing and full of uncertainty, but I see him fighting daily to reclaim his life and intellect that all who know him respect and admire. He is constantly on the cusp of grasping a word or concept that is just barely out of his reach.

Michael will return, and be a force to be reckoned with and loved. Hell, we all love him just the same.

Michael is my best friend. I can relate with him unlike anyone else, and those who know us both understand why. But this isn't about me. My grief is immaterial compared to the prospect of Michael not dominating life as he was meant to. Keep the prayers and support coming. I believe Michael will day read this one day soon and mock my over-dramatic prose, and share a laugh with me at his predicament. When doctors can give us no reliable odds on the outcome, I go all in on the Sludog Millionaire. I think everyone who has spent time with him would agree.

2011 will be the year of the comeback.