I just hung up the phone with a dear friend. Her husband just deployed so, of course, an appliance broke. The washer this time. It's Murphy's Law of Deployment but duct tape can't fix this one.
The repair man is on his way.
She's also pregnant, high-risk, and has a pre-school-aged kiddo (who is a sweetheart). No family near by. And she is the type of person who is always, always, helping e-v-e-r-y-one else. She's an incredible woman and her husband is an awesome soldier in this for all of the right reasons.
This is her very first deployment and she is doing remarkably well.
We talked about - and have often talked about - the importance of reaching out for assistance. About how we cannot be strong all the time and about how sometimes the greatest sign of strength is admitting that sometimes we need some helping hands.
She promised me she knows and told me how hard it is to need help. I think we've all been there.
The moment my friend said anything to a fellow Army Spouse, this fellow spouse swooped in and did her laundry, cleaned her house, made her a meal with nothing - nothing - expected in return. Nothing about that is strange for this lifestyle. Nothing about that even seems "extraordinary". It is simply what we do.
I cannot tell you how much I love our community. How incredible and beautiful and awe-inspiring the sense of service surrounding it. How we bond with one another is unlike any other. How we care for each other and support each other and demand to be allowed to help one another is indescribable.
We live through the unthinkable and we push each other through it. We cry together, we laugh together, we sit in silence together.
We remind each other why we are here. We empower one another to pass it on. We love deeper, we respect greater, we hope fiercer.
How great our journey can be if we reach out, if we give, if we seek to do more. How great the journey. How great the Grace. How incredible the strength given.