The Family that Chose Me

2018 has been a difficult year. 

John's gone.

John's gone.

No matter how many times I say or type those words I just can't get used to them.  But here it is, 8 and a half months later, and I'm still struck by the reality that he's not here. 

And yet I've made it through the last 8 and a half months.

And so tonight I write just long enough to tell you that it's because of YOU - the family that chose me.

Yes, some of you are actual blood relatives, but many more of you are friends - both old and new.  You've chosen to pray for me.  You've chosen to support me, both emotionally and financially.  You've chosen to help me keep going day by day.  You check in on me when you don't hear from me or on days you know will be rough.  You share your children with me.  You send your husbands to mow my lawn.  You invite me to join you on weekend outings.  You write notes.  You send text messages.  You take road trips with me.  You dance with me.  You sit with me while I cry.  You make sure I won't be alone on holidays.  You help me when my car breaks down.  You invite me to dinner.  You make sure I'll have Christmas presents.  You ask if I have enough of the perfume John used to buy me.  You help me with my anxiety when it comes to getting through airport security.  You take a risk on me.  When I need to hear a voice you call.  When I need a hug you're there.  When I climb a wall you celebrate with me.  When I hit a wall you tell me to rest, then hold my hand when I'm ready to move forward.  You remind me that I'm still here, that I still matter. 

You, dear friends, are the family that chose me, and for that I'm blessed beyond measure.