Today was the last meal on the Care Calendar which makes me reflect on how grateful we are for all that has been done for us.
I couldn’t possibly list all of the things people have done for us. I just couldn’t. At the beginning, I tried to keep a list so I could thank people later but the list got long and then got lost and then I lost track. But, that doesn’t make us any less grateful.
50 meals. Over FIFTY meals have been delivered to us in 4 months. People don’t understand the depth of this service. Kyle was the cook in the family. He made FANTASTIC, delicious, nutritious food and loved doing it. It brings tears to my eyes every time I see a knife of his, a pan, or his favorite salt shaker, or when I walk into HEB. Those 50 meals were 50 times that I didn’t have to cry. 50 times that I spent an extra hour with my children instead of shopping, cooking, and cleaning.
Cash, checks, gofundme, paypal, Visa gift cards, chick-fil-a gift cards just kept flowing in. I won’t waste a single dollar. I had some walk up to me at HEB and hand me a gift card to pay for my groceries. I’ve had others approach me and beg me to let them know when our next need arises as they want to provide for us. People have mowed the lawn, given us clothes, even the suit and wedding ring that Kyle was buried in was carefully bought by loving family when I didn’t have the heart to shop myself.
A massage? A pedicure? Epsom salts. Christmas presents. Flowers. Flowers. More flowers. Candy. Journal. The essential oils for grief. Teardrop necklace. All of these luxuries that we did not deserve but were gifted.
Tax advice, physical therapy, dental, acupuncture. A sleep trainer voted top 10 sleep trainers in the country donated her time so Clara and I could both learn to rest. 3 doulas offered to stay the night so I could sleep. You’ve offered your skill and talent to us. YMCA and Thinkery memberships and Dance Classes.
Diapers. Wipes. Baby toothbrush and toothpaste. Baby food pouches. Paper towels, toilet paper, water bottles.
You’ve remembered significant days. Christmas. New Years, Valentine’s Day, our anniversary. Clara’s birthday and Coen’s birthday quickly approaching. I’ve even received texts of remembrance on the monthly “anniversaries” of Kyle’s accident.
The letters. The cards. The mix CD’s. The notes. The messages and texts. The free counseling. The loving advice. The shoulders to cry on. The housing offered. Jobs offered. The babysitting. Oh my, the babysitting. One of my brothers was able to fly in. My current Young Living business was a gift. People have hosted classes.
And they continue to reach out. They know. You know. It doesn’t get easier. My living situation now doesn’t strain us financially but it won’t be that way forever. And you’ve provided for us in a million ways and people keep doing it. It doesn’t get easier but you just learn to live with it. You learn how to play the video game and throw the football because dad can’t anymore. You learn how to cook everyone’s favorite meals of his. You learn to fall asleep without him next to you. You learn to let the tears flow and let the anger flood in and wash away. You learn to lean on family and friends.
Thank you for reaching out. Thank you for praying. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for “caring for orphans and widows in their distress.”. Thank you for never making me feel like a burden when I’ve asked for help. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you from the top of my heart. Thank you for things you’ve done that I’ve forgotten to mention or never knew about.