I never imagined I’d need to use a handicap space. When I received my 100% VA disability rating, I made a silent promise: I’d never park in those spaces. I felt strong and capable, able to walk to and from the store without issue. Florida even offers free license plates for veterans like me, allowing us to park closer to ease movement, but I couldn’t foresee a time when I wouldn’t be able to make it in and out of Publix on my own two feet.

But life has a way of humbling us and revealing new perspectives. I recently found myself borrowing a wheelchair from our neighbors for my wife. She is fighting cancer again, and chemotherapy has made her legs ache with a pain. She is much like my father—strong-willed and independent, reluctant to ask for help or accept it. It’s one of the things I love most about her, this tenacity and resolve to live life fully on her terms. Yet, there are moments when emotion trumps logic, and she insists on walking, only to end up soaking her aching joints in a bathtub at 3 a.m.

Today, as I wheeled her around, I saw things differently. For the first time, I saw the purpose of those license plates I had so casually dismissed before. In a way, I felt the hand of God gently guiding me to see a deeper truth—that we all need help, and we will all be caregivers at some point in our lives. Rosemary Carter and Elizabeth Dole taught me this lesson, but life has reinforced it repeatedly.

I remember my father’s journey. A proud man, old school in every way, he despised the thought of using a wheelchair. For two hard years, he resisted help as he made his journey home, never once wanting to appear weak or dependent. I see so much of him in my wife now. She, too, is not accustomed to accepting help, yet her strength lies not just in her independence but in the love and resilience she shows every day, even through gritted teeth and stubborn defiance.

Our neighbors, older friends who have always been there for us, offered their wheelchair without a second thought. It’s moments like this that remind me of the power of community, of being a good neighbor. We help each other, not because we have to, but because it is a reflection of love, of being there when needed, without question or hesitation.

Sometimes, the carefully curated Instagram smiles need to be set aside so we can face reality. Life is not always picture-perfect; it is messy, challenging, and often painful. But it is also filled with grace, with moments of divine intervention that remind us of our purpose and our place in the world.

Today, my license plate makes sense. I see God’s plan unfold in the most unexpected ways. I am here, not just as a veteran with a rating but as a husband, a caregiver, a neighbor, and a servant of love. My wife’s determination to live life fully, even when it means being a little grumpy about the wheelchair, is a testament to the spirit we all share—the spirit to keep moving forward, to love fiercely, and to serve selflessly.

So, I embrace this role, this chance to support her in her journey, however she demands it. And in doing so, I see that God is indeed at work, weaving all these threads—divine intervention, caregiving, love, selfless service, and community—into a beautiful tapestry that is my life.