Dear Thomas, Love the 2115’s

I’m going to be honest, it wasn’t easy hearing the news about your car accident.

It was just a normal day, an ordinary Sunday afternoon, until suddenly it wasn’t. Suddenly there were phone calls and texts and articles online and they all seemed to say something, but not enough. They said you were okay, but we didn’t know exactly what that meant or how long it would be accurate. So as the day continued to pass, we waited and we wondered, hoping the next update was a good one.

When we got to the hospital the next day, we saw your family first. They were sitting just outside the main lobby, the sun shining brightly in their eyes, and they embraced us with open arms, thanking us for coming, though they didn’t need to. The guard at the desk gave us badges with “2115” scribbled across the front, then pointed hard to the left. We turned down one hallway, then another, and when the tile floor finally wrapped us around to the waiting room, we could see its doors overflowing with other “2115’s”.

To me, most of them were strangers. In fact, as the lot of us looked around, it seemed that many of us were foreign to one another. But as we stood crammed in that tiny room, offering introductory hugs and handshakes and sympathetic smiles, we quickly became one. It didn’t matter if we never saw each other again after we left. It didn’t matter if we forgot one another the instant the outside air hit our faces. Because in that moment, we were all united. We stood for all the different places, all the different people, and all the different lives you’ve touched with your kind heart, sarcastic jokes and crazy stories. We were a community of sorts, one that you’ve built over the years whether you realize it or not.

So even though you may be a long way off from feeling like yourself again, or even if you leave that bed feeling like a completely different person than before, know that we came and why. For it wasn’t to feel good about ourselves, and it wasn’t to impress anyone. It was to see with our own eyes that our friend was okay; to make sure that our guy was really in there. Because even now, when you may feel you’re at your weakest, you still make us feel strong. You still make us smile with a simple squeeze of the hand or nod of the head. And even though the days ahead might be tough, know that we’re all here, hoping to remind you of something you constantly remind us, even in the most ordinary of ways: you matter and we love you.

Get well soon buddy.


6 responses to “Dear Thomas, Love the 2115’s”

  1. Well said Kim. Hope your friend recovers quickly. xo

  2. ❤️❤️

  3. Sad but good story Kim !! best wishes for your friend!!

  4. Hugs to Thomas! He is one funny guy 🙂

  5. Just read this, Kim. I hope Thomas’s recovery is going well. His positive spirit should help. Nice encouragement! 😘

  6. […] I wrote this letter back in April, I had no idea what the road of recovery held for you. But as I’ve watched you […]

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