There is something to be said about privacy, minding your own businesses and hoping folks return the favor — you tend to your backyard, I’ll tend to mine. On the other hand, as one Orion Township family discovered, sometimes there is comfort in community.
In their time of grieving, the Osip family felt a warmth that solitude cannot generate. The community of friends, neighbors and complete strangers came together on Saturday, April 5, at Collier Lanes in Oxford to help the Osips.
A month before, the gathering was planned to help Momma and Pappa Osip (Ellen and Andy) raise money to pay mounting medical bills. Andy was diagnosed with stage IV adenocarcinoma lung cancer on Feb. 1, after a lengthy ‘cold? that started this past Thanksgiving. Before another round of chemo and the fundraiser, Andy succumbed to cancer. That was March 31 — seven days shy of his 62nd birthday.
And yet, the people came. They filled Collier Lanes.
‘My dad was excited about the fundraiser due to the amount of bills that were coming in,? son Dennis said. ‘I wish he could have been there so I could have seen his face from all the support we received. I have really been in awe. I know it is a tribute to the respect everyone had for my dad and the love they have for both my parents.?
According to Dennis, 225 showed up, 137 bowled and countless businesses contributed, donated and pitched in — over $5,000 was raised.
‘Much more than I would have imagined,? Dennis said.
Andy left behind his wife of over 40 years, two sons Andy, Jr. and Dennis, their wives Julie and Michelle and seven grandchildren.
The family is accepting donations, and checks can be made payable to Andy Osip Benefit Fund, P.O. Box 477, Lake Orion, MI 48362.
This is not only a good story, but a great story, not because someone died but because a community rallied. It is not an uncommon story. I have been in these parts for a few years — roughly 82.2 percent of my 45 years. For nearly 23 years, I have worked for this newspaper and I cannot begin to count or remember all the times the community has reached out and hugged other members of the community.
Folks in these parts give in times of great local tragedy, they give regularly of their time and money to area charities; they dig deep when there is a need anywhere on the globe. It is a truly caring community. I know, not only because I have written and read these stories, but because my family too, was once upon a time, blessed.
Much like Pappa Osip — my father had and eventually died of cancer. And, like the Osip family, the first indication something was wrong with our father was during the holiday season. I recall the Christmas gathering of family, singing carols. Dad, who would rather fight than switch (which is to say he was a Winstons man), smoked multi-packs of cigarettes a day for forever. Whilst merriment was commenced, Dad kept rubbing his throat.
‘Damn,? he grumbled with a little rasp in his voice. ‘I can’t sing. Must be getting a cold.?
A couple months later he was filleted down the middle of face, from the bottom lip to the neck and over to both ears. Throat cancer. Doctors at the VA hospital in Ann Arbor took out part of his tongue, the little flangey thing that lets your body separate solids from air (so you can breath and eat), part of his chin and I don’t know what else. Immediately after the operation, all swollen and discolored, he looked like Frankenstein’s Monster — complete with stitched back on head. After that, even after therapy, he couldn’t speak good and the only nutrition his body received was from Ensure, hops, barley and rye.
There were tons of chemo and radiation treatments, many trips to Ann Arbor, drugs and bills. Boy, were there bills.
The community took us in their arms and held us. The Clarkston Eagles had an auction. They scoured the area, businesses were asked to, and did, donate items for auctioning. And friends, neighbors and complete strangers showed up. The money helped Mom and Dad, but no amount of money could take the place of the feeling that came when all those people showed, gratefully will to give.
It took cancer five years to finally kick my dad’s behind, and that was in 1996. He was 60. I think he was able to stick around longer than he should have because of the love that was shown him. I know it is long overdue, but, if I haven’t said it yet, ‘Thank you.?
Sometimes living — and dying — in a community is a good thing. Know of somebody in need,ask for help — let us know.