From Gathering Firewood to Building a Home

This time last year, Hunter and I were living at Winding River Campground.

We were there until September 1, when we packed everything up once again and moved into a winter rental at Hampton Beach. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what the next year would bring. I just knew that I had to keep moving forward—one day, one decision and one small step at a time.

The picture attached to this post was taken while we were living at the campground. I’m holding the axe that Ryan and I had bought together when he came down the week before for my birthday. I had been chopping sticks and pieces of wood to prepare for our fire.

At first glance, it might look like nothing more than a picture of me camping with an axe resting over my shoulder. But when I look at it now, it represents so much more.

That woman was tired.

She didn’t have all the answers. She didn’t know exactly where life was taking her or how everything was going to work out. But she kept gathering what she needed. She kept building the fire. She kept taking care of her son. She kept finding a way forward.

And honestly, that is what I have done throughout this entire year.

Life didn’t suddenly become easy after we left the campground. We moved into the winter rental at Hampton Beach, knowing it was only temporary. There were still questions, uncertainty and plenty of moments when I felt overwhelmed. I was constantly trying to figure out what came next while still being a mother, working and carrying all the emotional weight that comes with not knowing where your family will eventually land.

But we kept going.

Now, one year later, I can look around my apartment and say, “We made it.”

We have a permanent home.

We have rooms that belong to us. We have our own belongings surrounding us and a space that reflects who we are. I can decorate it, settle into it and breathe a little easier knowing that we don’t have another move waiting just around the corner.

That may sound like something ordinary to some people, but to me, it is a huge accomplishment.

I am incredibly proud of myself.

I’m proud that I didn’t give up when things felt uncertain. I’m proud that I continued working toward stability even when I was exhausted. I’m proud that I kept showing up for Hunter while also trying to hold myself together. Most of all, I’m proud that I created a home for us.

That doesn’t mean everything is suddenly perfect.

There are still going to be struggles. Right now, one of the biggest is trying to help Hunter get his sleep back on track so he isn’t awake all night. Some days still feel heavy, and there will always be another challenge that needs my attention.

But having struggles today does not erase how far we have come.

I think sometimes we become so focused on the next problem that we forget to turn around and look at everything we have already survived. We forget to acknowledge the mountains we climbed because we are already staring at the next one.

Today, I’m allowing myself to look back.

I’m looking at the woman in that picture—the woman leaning against a tree with an axe over her shoulder, gathering wood so she could build a fire for herself and her son.

She didn’t know it then, but she was building so much more than a campfire.

She was building resilience.

She was building a new life.

She was building her way home.

And one year later, I am finally standing inside it.