Our Village: The Friends Who Walk Alongside Us

One by one they arrived at our door, eager to offer us a warm embrace and ready to be our strength when we had nothing left to give. Our family was in a dark place, mentally and physically, and when our village arrived to help it was as though they were breathing life and light back into our lives.

We specifically recall that not one person arrived bringing “sad eyes” or reluctant hearts. They didn’t look at us with sorrow or judgement as we assumed people would, given that we are dealing with the worst situation life can throw at you and because our home and surrounding property is in absolute disarray. We sat in awe as each person pulled up into our driveway, smiling big and with pep- in-their-step as though they were arriving at a party! It was a beautiful Saturday morning and these beautiful people cheerfully sacrificed their own plans to help a family in need instead.

Drawn out home renovations and projects had turned our home upside down. Flooring and painting projects were suppose to be finished so we could move our stuff back into our rooms. Instead, most of our furniture and other possessions were crammed into our carport like a perpetual yard sale, gathering dust and spiders. The rest was thrown into our already overstuffed family room. The plan was for Ty and I to put everything back before chemo started, but as the first infusion date approached and project completion dates got pushed back, we knew this wouldn't be possible. We were struggling, and our home could not serve as a sanctuary it needed to be for Ty's recovery. We reluctantly asked for help. Over 12 of our close friends dropped everything to be there for us on a Saturday morning, move our things back inside, organize our life, make dump runs, and even entertain our kids. In short, our village helped put us back together again.

When the Hard Stuff First Hit

Our summer ended with a bang, or more like an implosion...

Back in June, when we first got the cancer diagnosis that changed the trajectory of our life, we decided to embrace summer to the fullest before treatment began in August. We had to pause our plans to rent out our house so we could live abroad for the year, and we also had to move up our plans to finish several house projects that could no longer be put on hold. This house has amazing bones and we are so grateful for the chance to call it home, but it’s rather old and needs a lot of TLC to keep it from leaking and creaking.

So as Ty prepared for surgery to remove a tumor from his liver, I began preparing our home so it might be livable before we hunkered down during chemotherapy. As my mom loaded my four kids into her car to drive them to her house four hours away in the Bay Area, I could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she assessed me. I, her oldest daughter, can be annoyingly stubborn and fiercely independent. I reassured her that I had no doubt I could conquer the task of emptying out every room in the house so long as she took my kids for a few days.

The funny thing was, I really thought I could! No bother that each bedroom was crammed with years worth of stuff and heavy furniture, or that I notoriously have no sense of how long things actually take. Time blindness is one of my main ADHD symptoms, after all.

So, luckily, Mama Knows Best, and she secretly texted a few neighbors and close friends about the enormous task I was attempting to take on solo and asked if they would gently check in on me. My friends also know I like to work solo most of the time, so they casually reached out telling me they had time the next day to come for an hour to just help me move furniture. At first, I ignored the offers of help, as I just wanted to put in my headphones and tune out the world as I went about the mindless task of loading boxes of crap and more crap out of the house and into the carport.

As the hours wore on and my motivation fatigued, I finally caved and accepted the help. A couple hours later, my friend Mary showed up with her strong daughter and wasted no time with nonsense, asking me to point her to a room and they’d get to work! Then, one of my best friends sent her two strapping high school boys up the lane and they made quick work of carrying bookshelves, desks, and heavy furniture outside. I stood back in astonishment as they maneuvered through narrow doorways and shuffled past me as if they were a legit moving company! Within an hour, these four helpers had successfully moved out every single thing from my kids bedrooms.

If I had tackled this alone, it would have taken me DAYS and I likely would have not finished it at all. Instead, with all the unexpected free time on my hands, I was able to shower and drive back to the hospital where I got to have lunch with Ty as he healed from surgery.

Because of the generosity of time my friends gave and because of my own mom’s intuition about what her daughter really needed, I was gifted time with my husband, which is what matters most, especially right now.

Life is Better Lived Together

When we made the decision to move back to Santa Barbara from the East Coast, we knew there would be a trade off. We would remain far from both of our families (who all live around the Bay Area). Not “all the way across the country” far, but a 4-5 hour drive that made it impossible to have family simply swing by to spend time with the kids or help us out. We love our families and cherish the weekends we do get to spend with them, but recognize that they would not be able to be a constant presence in our lives.

Over the years we have been blessed with another kind of family - a village of close friends who are walking with us on this life journey. Some are parents of our children’s friends, others are folks from church or work, and others are old friends from college or grad school (and some are all of the above). Over the years we have grown closer and have experienced something akin to living like one big family. As we close in on the 12-year mark of raising our family here in Santa Barbara, I realize we’ve been living the heart of our life alongside these friends. When you are raising children, I don’t have to tell you what a messy, wild, wonderful ride it is. It’s been a true privilege to watch our friends walk through the uncertainty of parenthood as we all try our best to create the next generation of people and not mess them up too much along the way.

We’ve made many mistakes as parents, and so have our friends, but knowing we are all doing this impossible job together in this beautiful community has made this journey sting a bit less.

So, by pushing our stubborn nature aside and shushing those voices from the past that tell us asking for help makes us weak, we’ve had a front row seat to the true hearts of those around us. No one really knows how to show up when a friend has cancer, and they are not supposed to know this. God willing, our cancer story will be the only one that touches our friends' lives as it is not one I wish upon anyone. But, if we have to walk this cancer road, I couldn’t ask for a better village to be part of as we begrudgingly find our way through it.

I haven't been able to adequately thank our heroes, but please know you have forever imprinted yourselves into our hearts and minds. I had a dear friend send me a handwritten card with some shower steamers as a reminder to take care of myself as I often neglect to do. She also gave me a brief but tight hug and handed me a container of my favorite homemade oatmeal that I scarfed down the second she drove away. Just this morning, I opened my email to find the kindest words staring back at me. It was from another mom in my daughter's 5th grade class, a woman I barely know, and she listed off several ways she could help my family. Included was a grub hub gift card so we could order a dinner of our choosing straight to our doorstep so we could focus on Ty's healing in the comfort of our home. We are finding that our children want to be at home as much as possible lately, as it's been our safe haven and the only place we can all be just as we are.

Co-Workers to the Rescue

When we experienced the first bout of cancer back in early 2021, we fretted over how we would keep our jobs afloat when we had no mental or physical energy to give. Once again, we were reminded of the community we belong to and were humbled by the outpouring of support and understanding our colleagues at UCSB showed us.

I still remember being at a Supervision meeting for the Teacher Education Program, where I work, and we were all supposed to sign up to lead 2-3 seminars for the following semester. I added my name to a couple dates, inwardly calculating how I would manage to prepare for these important seminars when I felt so unsure of my life at that moment, when I noticed my name kept disappearing from the calendar.

I unmuted myself on zoom and announced that I did not see my name on any seminars anymore and wondered if there was a glitch? Without making a big deal of it, my amazing colleagues nonchalantly answered that they unanimously agreed I would not be taking on that additional responsibility this semester, as they’d rather me focus my time where it mattered most, which was with my family and with the few student teachers I was directly supervising.

Ty's colleagues have likewise stepped up to take over autism center and student mentorship obligations, and he is eternally grateful for their support. In particular, Anna Krasno has gone above and beyond to take over operations at the autism center and ensure that clients, families, and students are cared for.

They picked up our broken pieces and knew exactly where to put them before we could even spend one minute worrying. These small (and sometimes large) acts of kindness took a huge weight off of us.

Laundry Fairies

Laundry for a family of six is no joke. Laundry when one parent is taken out of the picture is damn near impossible. Enter the laundry fairies. When I thought I would drown under mismatched socks and piles of dirty children's outfits, they saved my life. Our good friend Tara and her daughters offered to pick up our laundry, whisk it away to wash it, and return it neat, clean, and folded. We initially hesitated and turned down their offer. It was too much. They insisted. Even said it gave them the opportunity to watch a movie together while they folded our clothes (although I'm pretty sure they were perfectly capable of watching a show without needing to handle our laundry). When we were drowning, they rescued us - helping us out with laundry for months when Ty was focusing on recovery. I would often get a text with just a laundry emoji, signaling that they wanted to come by soon and pick up a load or five. A few hours later, they would silently leave it at our doorstep and disappear into the ether. Thank you, my sweet laundry fairies... You helped us out more than you'll ever know...

This summer, I had another friend graciously offer to pick up our dirty, stinky laundry load by load and dropped it off neatly folded the next day. At least she’s one of my few Lifers who I met while playing Field Hockey for UCSB, so our friendship involved plenty of dirty and sweaty days in our hockey uniforms. In fact, I think most of our beers were chugged together at Sams To Go in Isla Vista while still wearing our cleats, sweat and dirt framing our ponytails.

Our Ride or Die

Over Father's Day, Ty, his mother, our kids, and I rented two e-bikes and cruised all over Santa Barbara. It was such a fun day and a great way to test out the latest eco-friendly mode of transportation! Ty was hooked. He wanted a low impact way to exercise and be able to get around town, even in the midst of chemo, and an e-bike fit the bill perfectly. A few weeks later, I was invited over to a friend's house to reconnect. Over a glass of wine, she said that a bunch of our family friends at Ocean Hills Church saw my Father's Day post on Facebook. She then pulled out a thick white envelope. Over 20 of them had pitched in funds to buy Ty an e-bike. I was speechless. Each of these families has been integral part of our church family for over ten years. We have laughed and cried together in small group, attended services, baby dedications, and weddings, gone to some of the rowdiest parties imaginable, volunteered to serve our city, and have prayed countless times together. They wanted a tangible way to contribute to Ty's physical recovery, and gifted him a means to still go on adventures with his family when not feeling 100%. We have never experienced such undeserved love and generosity. Our village loves us deeply, and we love them just as deeply in return.

Endless Gratitude

We are overwhelmed and humbled by the outpouring of love and support. I want to sincerely apologize for my occasional (okay, frequent) lack of response to many offers of help and support. If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of my ghosting, please know this is never personal nor meant to offend you. Usually, it means I’ve used up every ounce of my mental and emotional energy at the moment and I need to recharge in order to reply coherently. It also may mean that my ADHD brain has forgotten to remember I had something to reply to and that text or email will get lost somewhere in the great abyss that is my mind. Knowing ADHD so intimately, it likely got stuffed somewhere in the folds of my mind that makes no sense so I can’t easily access the information when I need it most!

I will be honest though. Sometimes, our inability to accept help or invitations to get together or connect is because we don't have the bandwidth. Sometimes we are on life support and can’t do anything but the bare minimum - eating, breathing, sleeping, and hopefully keeping our kids alive. We are enduring a lot of hard right now, especially mentally and emotionally, and we find that it’s even been difficult to carry on a conversation with others (even when we crave social contact). That is why you will often find us holed up at home when we are not watching our kids play sports we’ve learned AYSO now stands for All Your Saturdays AND Sundays Occupied with a generous helping of 5pm games).

Please though, please continue to invite us to all the fun parties and send us all the funny texts and memes and GIFs galore, because our village is one that knows cancer has nothing on a good laugh, dance parties, and plenty of food and libations.

We are UCSB Gauchos after all, so our love language is found in burritos and booze, live music, with the words of Bob Marley playing in the background. “Don’t worry about a thing. Because every little thing, is gonna be all right.”

And when another family in our village finds themselves in need, we will be the first ones to show up with a smile, a bottle of wine (or three), and six sets of strong hands ready to help...