I’m starting to lose track of all the nice things our friends, family and acquaintances have done to support us over the past few months.

Just today, while grocery shopping at Thrifty’s, a woman (a masseuse) I’ve known superficially for years offered me a free massage: I’m supposed to call to book an appointment. When I was checking out my groceries, another woman I know came by and asked if she could give me a hug.

In our cupboard right now are three different bags of cookies from family and friends. Our freezer is full of homemade soups, three kinds of lasagna, more pasta, half a chicken and numerous cuts of beef. I have a collection of dishes to return to folks who have brought us hot meals.

Brock and I have always been independent and reluctant to accept help, but there came a point after his cancer diagnosis, when his auntie asked if she could fundraise for us, when we decided to say “yes” instead of “no” to all offers of help. But it’s still hard to accept. We often have to remind each other of this rule. It goes against our habit and independent instinct. Over the past few months I’ve learned that people want to show their love and support in different ways: some people want to feed us, others want to help us financially. I’ve learned to identify jobs that we need help with, and to accept help from the people best suited to do those jobs.

Still, I’m wary of accepting too much help: I don’t want to wear out our supporters, or take advantage of their kindness. What if we are super lucky and Brock lives long past his expected expiration date? Will our friends and family regret signing up as our cheerleaders, if the game goes into overtime? How many lasagnas can one person leave at our door?

I feel like all our years of living here, of getting to know the people in our community, were somehow preparing us for a crisis like this. We have more supporters than we can count. It’s not just our immediate family that is horrified by this cancer. It’s everyone who knows us or knows about us.

I want to send a thank you card to every single one of them. They make this bearable, day by day.