"Who?" his shaky voice asks."Micheal Elliott," I clarify.
"Micheal?" he asks as remembering who I am.
Bob Demery and I met because of Frank Stanton ... both incredibly compassionate Savannah businessmen who cared about the dark sides of their city ... homelessness ... AIDS ... addictions ... and such.
At the time my world is full of homelessness ... AIDS ... addictions ... and such and sitting in my office one day, Mr. Demery says, "Mike, if you ever find yourself in a hard spot and need a check ... just call me."
He's that kind of guy.
Mr. Demery did lots of things in Savannah ... inherited a successful business and made it better ... passing it on to his son ... started Savannah Country Day, based on a boarding school model for those who can afford it ... and lots more.
"Hey Mr. Demery," I continue, "you remember that time you told me if I ever needed a check I should just call you?"
We really needed the check.
Caring for people always takes more than you have to give ... monetarily and emotionally.
There was a long pause.
"Micheal," he finally says as though he realizes it's really me he's talking to.
"Yes Sir, it's me."
"Micheal," he repeats before blurting, "I have Alzheimer's."
I am speechless.
What does one say?
"Hey Robert," I finally stammer, "I just wanted to say 'Hey.' I hope you're doing okay. Can I do anything for you?"
And I hear him cry.
"Thank you Micheal," he finally says hanging up.
That was a long time ago but last night Sarah and I are watching an excellent movie about what it's like to have Alzheimer's and ... Mr. Demery decides to show up ... and full of emotion of his kindness and his lost-ness ... I tell my wife the story ... and I just cry ... and she just holds me tight.
I do believe in the Resurrection.
Mr. Demery did it last night.
Hell he's doing it again this morning.
Now the question is ... what does one do after a resurrection?
