I’m not a huge Bon Jovi fan but Livin’ On a Prayer has always been a favorite song of mine.

The song is about a young couple, Tommy and Gina, going through hard times. Tommy has been laid off from his union job and Gina is a waitress trying to keep them both afloat until he’s working again.

The message of the song is about resilience in the face of hardship and how having someone with you during difficult times in life really helps.

It talks about being “halfway there”. The halfway point in anything is always a nice feeling. “We’re halfway home” or “we’re halfway to our fundraising goal”.

Well, Mike and I are halfway to the year anniversary of this happening to him, which also happens to be our wedding day.

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In the last few blogs, I’ve talked about Mike’s progress and how far he’s come. There are no more transfers needed into and out of the wheelchair, the couch or the car. He is fully capable to do it all on his own.

Last night, we were sitting watching a movie and he just got up and left the room. I didn’t know if he was going to use the bathroom or just getting up to do something else.

I know it sounds odd but, at that moment, it struck me how much I’ve missed that small but normal act of him leaving the room on his own. Before, it would be something we would have talked about and assistance would be given.

Mike is walking most everywhere he needs to go and doing great. With big trips out of the house, we will bring the smaller transport wheelchair just to be safe in case the walking is too much for him. He’s still building up endurance. But mostly, he doesn’t need more than a cane.

And while he still needs assistance with dressing, he’s learning different techniques to do it himself and with practice and time, he’s able to accomplish this very important task.

I’ve published some very honest blogs about how difficult this whole thing has been on me, being thrust into a caregiver role so early in my relationship with Mike, seeing him struggle and need assistance with activities of daily living, being stripped of his dignity in the hospital and the heartbreaking reality of the challenges that not only he but the entire disabled community face out in public.

There are more good days than bad, though, the bad days definitely leave a mark.

But…

From the beginning of it all, friends and family have rallied around us. With prayer. With food. With help. With love.

It’s as if every time another weight gets added and I come close to my breaking point, it’s lifted off my shoulders and carried by one of you.

You are all holding onto a piece of this, keeping me from toppling over.

From daytime visits at Sunnyview while I worked, spoiling Mike with chocolate milkshakes daily, sometimes multiple (luckily, he’s quit that habit!) to friends dropping by the house to keep him company when he got home, giving me peace of mind that he’s not alone.

Family coming from a distance to visit, bringing food, attending church with us and enjoying precious time together.

Phone calls and texts checking in on us, showing care and concern, offering to bring anything that’s needed or just to visit, and understanding when visits were denied.

The countless acts of love through unsolicited homemade dinners, late night deliveries of cookies and ice cream and helping make concerts and road-trips manageable and enjoyable.

And most of all, the daily prayers that held us, kept us and comforted us in our darkest hours.

Thank you for your love and support. It’s made all the difference in the world. We are excited to see what the next six months will bring.

And keep those prayers coming! We’re living on them.