My village. My friends. My family. I’ve talked and blogged about my village ad nauseam. If I ever win a major award I won’t have to write a speech, I can just go copy and paste.
Still, I am sometimes overwhelmed with gratitude and amazement at the quickness with which my friends jump in to help. When Rowan and I have been in the hospital the eagerness to lend a hand is within my realm of understanding. Or worthiness. But when it snows and school is cancelled for days on end and I stand at the edge of Winter with my hands pulling on my hair in frustration and they say, “tell us how we can help. What can we do to lessen the load?” I am left without words in a deep abyss of thank yous that do not do justice to how I feel.
And maybe this seems dramatic. But it’s not about the act itself – I’m sure having my children over for a few hours isn’t an earth shattering inconvenience – rather, it’s the fact that we are so damn lucky. It’s the deep breaths I can take knowing that people have my back. That they will not let me fall on my face.
Basically we are all part of a cheesy office trust exercise and they (you) are catching me every time.
(PS. I’ve written this entire post from the bathtub. That’s how eager I was to thank you)