...to raise this military spouse.
Thirty days ago, we packed our two vehicles with our most precious cargo and traveled to our new home state. Ten days before that, a massive moving truck came and emptied our humble home of all of our belongings. Twenty-five days ago, we moved into our new home. Five days ago, we unpacked the last of our boxes.
This weekend, we experienced our first midwest thunderstorm.
And before, after, in between all of these days, our friends have helped us.
Help came in the form of meals, good wishes, hugs and encouragement. It came without us asking, without me even knowing I needed it (because I'm stubborn that way). Help came from our best friends, from neighbors, from family, and even, from strangers. But help came right on time, on the brink of those moments when I thought we couldn't pull any of this off.
Many people comment, "I don't know how you guys can move so much." Or, "I don't know how you can handle a deployment/be alone/do it all on your own." Most of the time, I say, "I'm used to it," or "I do what I can."
I admit I never say enough that, "We don't do it alone."
We're never really alone, are we? Whenever the stuff hits the fan, it's so easy to go into onesself. Heck, when the good things happen, we may pat ourselves on the back, and credit own our hard work alone. As if we were on the liferaft surrounded by the good fruits that we harvested on our own, as if no one taught us how to sow, have hinted at the best place to cast our lot.
I'm convinced otherwise.
And I've got our eighth home settled in to prove for it.
To these folks, THANK YOU. From my core, I WILL NEVER FORGET. And I promise to pay it forward.
I hope you have a great week!