Showing posts with label nonprofit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonprofit. Show all posts

Monday, February 15, 2010

Donations

We receive our first donation for Colby's Army today. I am shocked, stunned, excited, for this validates the dream, the vision, the words I had of this nonprofit organization just days after Colby's passing. This means it is real, that others also believe we can take Colby's ideas and change the world, one step at a time. All Colby wanted to do was "affect change," positive change. This is the first thing I have been excited about in a very long time.

Just days ago Colby's Army received word that it was an official 501(c)3 nonprofit in every sense of the word. That I felt mildly pleased about, but I expected it to happen. I knew the paperwork was in order. But I was not ever sure others, strangers, people who do not know Colby or me, would also see the vision, also believe, even though there is a wonderful, professional group of directors in place, a board of directors, all of whom who are passionate about the cause.

Despite very limited finances Colby's Army is already helping others, has helped others, and will continue to do so. The donations mean we can kick off programs, get more people involved, and help many more. I am thrilled that we can do this for Colby, in memory of Colby, and for the people and animals whose lives will be improved.

It is also wonderful to feel something other than pain and anguish, despair, hurt, sadness, helplessness. I was not sure I could feel anything other than those feelings anymore. I like knowing other options are there to tap into. I have spent the last six and a half months crying and today I also cry, but these are good tears, tears of possibility, of hope. These tears give me a reason to live and that's something I have not had since Colby passed.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Intervention

Today I am involved in an intervention. A young man with mental illness and addiction needs help. This kind young man was an acquaintance of Colby's, and has an addiction to cough syrup. I am surprised to find that cough syrup is one of the leading types of addiction. This is especially scary because, like prescription drugs, most cough syrups can be purchased over the counter. An overdose can cause extreme psychosis and even death.

Five family members and a social worker are also at the intervention. They have a place for the young man to go: a dual diagnosis center that can help. The young man is angry. He says he can't have a problem; cough syrup is legal. He is given a choice of going to the treatment facility or to the Nashville Union Rescue Mission. The choice is his. He says he will go to the Mission and runs upstairs to gather his things.

When he comes back down minutes later he looks for an out. He rationalizes and decides to go to the treatment facility. The real possibility of the Mission, the streets, and homelessness have frightened him. He is still angry, but a ride awaits and he gets in. I hear later that he checked in safely. He made a good choice. He has a hard road ahead, but he also has a chance at a long, productive life.

Another person was at the intervention, one of the Board members for Colby's Army, the nonprofit organization several others and I founded in memory of Colby. I have not mentioned this in a while as we have been laying the organization's foundation. You can learn more at ColbysArmy.org, but one of the things we do is help people with mental illness and addiction, like this young man today, get the help they need. That did not happen for Colby. But it can happen for others and we will help many. Today's young man was just the first. 

Colby's Army recently got the okay to accept tax-deductible donations and every cent will go to help people with mental illness and addiction, as well as animals and the environment, causes that were very close to Colby's heart. There are several programs in the works, which will be kicked off as funding allows. I think Colby would be pleased. I think that because I felt Colby at the intervention today. I felt his spirit in the room. To me, that was his unconditional stamp of approval. I miss you, son.