When I think about how lucky I am, I tend to be grateful for my amazing family and friends who have supported (and put up with) me in ways too numerous to mention. But there are other helpers who have been in my life for years.
People I pay.
For example, there are Hector and John, commonly referred to as "the cleaning men." We have been "cleaning up for the cleaning men" for about thirty-five years. They come from Nova Scotia. I don't know much about them because we are like ships that pass in the night—they come as I am fleeing out the door to work. But except for their twice-yearly trips back home, having them in my life means I don't have to worry about keeping the house clean. That is huge
And then there is Kelly. I can't remember when Kelly started cutting my hair. I know that she was in her early twenties when I found her, and that it is at least twenty years ago. I followed her from salon to salon, but when she became a stay-at-home mom doing haircuts in her kitchen, I tried to find someone else. Kelly used to cut my hair during my lunch hour in a salon across the street from my office. She now cuts my hair in her basement, a thirty-five minute drive in good traffic, because I gave up on finding a replacement. I make the trip to her home every six weeks, through rain, sleet and hail. It's not just about the haircut.
I don't know what I would do without Kathy. Kathy is my "personal trainer." In forty-five minutes every three months, she does wonders. She is an accomplished physical therapist. When I thought my hip was about to give up, it took Kathy five minutes to figure out it was my back, not my hip. She designed a series of stretches for me that fixed that problem. When I had a partial tear in a rotator cuff, the doctor gave me a couple of surgeons. That's what doctors do. Not Kathy. She designed a series of exercises that fixed that problem. Yes, I pay wonderful Kathy, but she is worth her weight in gold.
Hector and John, Kelley and Kathy are part of my team. They are worth every penny, my unsung heroes.