Beyond grateful

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I keep journals. Most days I scribble down something about that particular time. Last night I ran into my 1991 book of days. Oh my GAWD. At that time I was in my 30s. My Dad had just kicked my hubby, me and my school age daughter out as he lay dying. We managed to scrape enough money together to buy a shack by Puget Sound- an inner part of the Pacific ocean. On the outskirts of an Indian reservation. HOW did we have the strength back then to keep on going? My hands were over full. I was trying to get work coming in that would pay enough for the house payments plus we had to eat and daughter needed shoes and pants etc. Hubby was going to school to be a drug counselor and volunteering there. Our cars were beyond crappy. They kept quitting on us in the middle of intersections. My Mom would give us things. One of my sisters gave us home canned fruit. On we went. We loved that house and its garden and being near the Sound. And yet we had to fight so hard to stay alive. Thank God hubby would end up in Grad school and then that mad drive East over the mountains to see if he would get that Social Worker job. He did and slowly we pulled away from The Great Depression. I am open mouthed grateful as I wade into another December, not worrying about every teeny penny I spend.