When we gathered for his celebration of life, the parking lot filled with motorcycles. Riders from Mike’s club and nearby towns stood quietly together, their presence a tribute more powerful than words. Mike handed me a small folded flag from one of their rides and told me they considered Liam one of their own.
Eight months have passed, and the kindness hasn’t faded. The riders call, stop by, and help when I need it. They fixed my car. They brought meals during the holidays. They invited me to join their annual toy run, something Liam always wanted to experience.
I’ve learned something important along the way: kindness doesn’t always arrive the way we imagine it. Sometimes it looks rugged. Sometimes it thunders down the road on two wheels. But at its core, kindness is the same—steady, protective, and willing to show up when you need it most.
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