Jack Frost's Phoenix Fund

My Uncle went missing a few weeks ago, but we were delayed in realizing it before it was too late. The day we filed the police report for a missing person, ironically, my car radio was tuned into Jack F.M. The first song I heard on my way out of work was John Mellon Camp's "Jack & Diane." My heart was bleeding for my Uncle Jack. Based on the timeline of his disappearance and what my husband saw at my Uncle's home, I was convinced that I would not see him again. It's funny how we imagine lyrics--it's like when we don't know whatever it may be that we think we do know--but we don't realize it until later. There is so much in life we don't know. Listening to Mellencamp sing that day, I heard: "Life goes on after the threat of living is gone." Sitting and reflecting as I write this, I remember how scared I felt about the possibility that my Uncle was dead. Today, I pulled up the lyrics to Mellencamp's song "Jack & Diane," and I see it reads: "Life goes on after the thrill of living is gone."

I don't think it is a mistake I heard "threat" instead of "thrill." Life, like any journey, can be harrowing and dangerous to live. My Uncle's life threatens him in many ways. I can't even begin to imagine how horrible the trifecta of physical, emotional, and mental anguish he has been experiencing has been that it brought him to this place. His lack of health insurance is no help either. My Uncle's life still hangs in the balance. For him to pull through this medical crisis, he will be faced with an even more daunting task: facing unfathomable changes or never leaving Las Vegas.

I don't know what is in store for my Uncle, but I know I need to help him. I am thankful he has the opportunity to rise up like the Phoenix from its ashes. I prefer monetary debt over death in the family, and I feel relieved and grateful to have the chance to help him pay his medical debt at least. A few days ago, I was thinking we'd be looking at a cadaver and holding a funeral at my home.

If you cannot donate, please keep my Uncle Jack Frost in your thoughts or in your prayers, or both.