Small town life

Today I went to a benefit dinner for two men in our community who are battling cancer. I have no idea how many people were there, but let me just say there was a steady stream of people for about three hours.
I sold $240 worth of tickets for the quilt we are drawing for. We were able to give the quilts to Mr. Blue's family and Mr. Capps's wife, so we don't have to worry about any of us taking cold and flu bugs into their homes.
I'm so proud to be from a community that cares about its citizens. I know both Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps are proud men who would not want to be on the receiving end of charity, but I know both of them to be such giving men. I would tell them, "Don't rob us of our blessing. We want to do this."
Danny Sterling, who is our assistant principal and former ag teacher, was taking the money for the dinner today. He was overwhelmed by the generosity of people who gave donations over the cost of their dinner. I'm not surprised. Everyone wants to help, but their little donation is awkward to give, but to join with others makes it seem like your gift can really make a difference. I don't know how much they took in today, but I know that incidental expenses of an illness can be tough.
I had to swallow my pride last year when I was planning Jason's funeral. The expense of a funeral is so great today that I was certain that after all was said and done, we would still have a bill. We didn't. In the first few days after his death, I kept getting asked if we had established a Memorial Fund, but we hadn't. There were so many people wanting to do something and so many flowers at the funeral home and at our house that I didn't really think we would get that much, but both the bank and Jason's friends convinced us to open a memorial account. We received gifts from people we had never heard of from all over the country. We were able to pay for the service and buy a headstone with the donations and the insurance from his truck. That was such a relief for us. It's bad enough to lose a child, but it would have been horrible to have to "make a payment" to the funeral home each month.
Jason had very amazing friends from high school, Connor's, OSU, National Cutting Horse Association, Nebraska. The outpouring of love was a very touching phenomenon.
I always want to do something for a family who has had a loss, but sometimes I'm not sure what is best. Here in Tecumseh the first response is always food, but I've been on the receiving end of that so many times it's not funny. There's always too much food. We always call friends and family and tell them to "come and help us eat this elephant." I started taking in the place of food things like ziploc bags and containers, foil, etc. It has been a complete year since Jason died, and I bought my first Kleenex this past week. I bought paper towels and toilet paper for the first time this summer. The paper plates lasted until about February. The people in this town are the most generous people on earth.
After my uncle passed away in San Antonio, Phyllis, my dad and I flew down for the service. They had to order take-out barbeque for us. It's not as if he didn't have friends; he was active in church; he was president of his local AARP group; his funeral was a large one. People down there just don't take food like we do here.
I like small town life.