Guest post

From Amy's brother Tim (Saturday, Aug. 25):

Yesterday I was released from the hospital. The doctors say I will take a month or two to recover from my injuries, but I fortunately should not have any long-term health effects. Today we fly home: one less with us physically, but one more that will be with us forever. As I leave St Mary of Michigan in Saginaw, I’d be remiss if I did not thank the beautiful God sent angels that constantly watched over us. I could see my sister in each one of you and what you did for my family and I am eternally indebted to your warm kindness.

To the first responders, the air flight crew, the sheriffs deputy, and the EMT workers who have come checked on us, hugged us and cried with us every day since the accident, thank you. Those 15 minutes you’ve taken for each of the last six days to be with us and cry with us will never be forgotten. To the nurses, doctors, hospital techs and all other hospital staff who constantly watched over us, made sure we were always comfortable, and took care of every need we had before we even knew we needed it, thank you. You guys were some of the nicest, most caring people I have ever met. To the hospitals hospitality house that let my parents stay on site, thank you; to the family members who drove hours to be with us each day, thank you; to the family friends that flew up on a moments notice to be with us, thank you; to the hundreds of people, both who we know well and who we don’t know well yet that have sent messages and stories of support, thank you.

I don’t know why you guys did so much for us and cared for like you did but it means more than you will ever know. The recovery will be long, but all the support makes each step a little easier.

A friend said this to me and I think she summed it up perfectly:

“It's so beautiful that even though Amy isn't here, her kindness and loving nature is reflected in all of these people who are coming together for your family. She still brings out the best in people”

In Amy’s words: To all you beautiful humans, Thank you ❤️

Amy

Amy

Beautiful Amy Lee died Wednesday following a car accident Sunday, the day after attending her grandfather Dick Lee's funeral. She was 21. It is unspeakably sad.

There will be a service Sunday, and most of us Olsons will be there. Seems like all we do lately is go to funerals.

Death and life

Bois Blanc Island

We went to another funeral Saturday, this one in Hubbard Lake, Michigan, near the farm my Grandpa Ole grew up on. This was for Dick Lee, my dad's cousin, who was raised with my dad like a brother. He was 85 and had dementia, so it was sad but not a shock.

Leaving the family gathering, on Sunday, a car carrying Lee relatives was hit head-on by a vehicle that had crossed the center line near the little town of Omer. Amy Lee, Dick's granddaughter, a passenger, suffered serious abdominal injuries and has had two operations in a Saginaw hospital. Her brother suffered a broken wrist, and her mother, the driver, had cuts and bruises. So we're praying for them.

Like Lydie said, we all rush to be there for a funeral and things can happen.

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I haven't written here in months.

I did a nearly 600-mile bike ride in Michigan and Wisconsin and around the UP to the Straits, ending up at the Vosper island, near Mackinac Island. I spent a week there recovering. Ms. V was kind enough to drive up and take me home.

I was home a couple days when I noticed my right leg was swollen all the way down and hurt something awful. So I went to urgent care, where they told me that perhaps I'd strained my muscles on the ride, giving me "compartment syndrome," and that one possible consequence was amputation. Might as well shoot me. I went to the Froedtert ER hoping to find better doctors, and they diagnosed a blood clot in my lower leg, probably unrelated to my ride. What a relief to have a blood clot. So, like a junkie, I'm self-injecting myself twice a day with a blood thinner and gimping around the house.

I've been on my bike just once in three weeks. But I have been dreamily poring over maps on how you might ride coast to coast. For example, how do you cross the Rockies? Glacier National Park, up Going-to-the-Sun Road, over the Logan Pass. Casual uphill riding for miles, then a steep 10-mile climb and 10-mile descent. The road is closed to motor vehicles till June, so there's that. But I'm probably too old for this, and -- have I mentioned this? -- I have muscular dystrophy. So there's that.

My MD condition is on the mild side as these things go. I can ride without impairment. It's just eating, walking, swallowing, talking and using my hands that pose occasional challenges.

But hey, I still have, not just one, but two legs. And only one of them has a blood clot.

Wilderness State Park, in northern Michigan

On the island

Jimmy Vosper tends the bonfire