A New Family
They kept their promise. Every day, one or more bikers from Iron Brotherhood MC showed up.
Ray—the president I’d slammed the door on—came Wednesdays. A retired paramedic, he managed my medications and pain. He shared stories of his grandkids.
Marcus came Thursdays, a trained chef. He made soups and soft meals I could eat, labeling containers for others to reheat.
Tommy came Fridays. The youngest, he cleaned my home top to bottom, doing laundry and chores without complaint.
Weekends, other brothers came. They mowed my lawn, fixed what was broken, read to me, watched old movies. They drove me to chemo, held my hand, stayed with me until I slept.
The “criminals” I’d despised became my family.
