Toiletries and candy are piled on the floor of Wendy's garage. A few ladies in her Jazzercise class in the Dana Point area decided to donate care package items for her husband's squadron last week. Soon, what began as a trickle of donations became a flood. A doctor donated a carton of Tylenol. Then came mini-mouthwashes, toothbrushes and 48 containers of dental floss. Others brought mounds of goodies.

When Wendy graciously said, "I think this is enough," they donated $400 towards shipping. She assembled 35 shoeboxes and then knocked on doors in the neighborhood, inviting other Marine wives to put together care packages for their husbands.

Wendy's story isn't unusual. People are reaching out to military families in extraordinary ways, and boy, are we grateful. Sometimes military life is crummy – long separations, frequent moves and, for some, a paycheck that could stand a boost.

Blair and I agree, though, that the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. We enjoy traveling, meeting interesting people and playing a tiny role in keeping this country safe. While we, and all military families, are accustomed to deployments and some degree of danger, we aren't all accustomed to combat. Times are suddenly very different. The women on my street are no longer just neighbors who wave to each other. Our bond is silent, forged through shared experience, and we support each other. This I expected, but I did not expect the generosity and kindness of the people who aren't in uniform, who don't scan the TV images looking for a glimpse of family, who will live near Camp Pendleton long after we've been sent somewhere else. Some of them are old friends who are now closer friends. Others were faceless civilians who've now become friends. Old high school and college buddies have contacted me. Blair's name is on prayer lists across the country. My church embraced all of their military families, offering babysitting and handyman services. Even Blair's seventh-grade pen pal offered me words of encouragement.

I'm not the only one who feels overwhelmed. Here are just a few stories that touched my heart this week: Nicole's neighbors kept asking her, "How can we make this time easier for you?"

 Last week, she finally started throwing out suggestions. The folks on her street took an idea and ran with it, and are hosting a cookout for all 60 families attached to the 1st Light Armored Reconnaissance.

While in line at the post office, a gentleman behind Tammi spotted the military address written on her package. He introduced himself as an "old Marine," and insisted on paying for the package's postage. He threw in a roll of stamps and told her to be sure to thank her Marine for him. The day after the war began, Cindy, a middle- school teacher, opened the door of her classroom to find bouquets of flowers and messages of support scrawled on the chalkboards by her students. Cindy's neighbor erected a flagpole in the flatbed of his truck and raised an American flag. He drove it to a Support the Troops rally, where he distributed pens and asked family members to write the names of deployed loved ones all over his truck.

So thanks to all of you who help provide distraction from our worries. Thanks for your prayers and kind words. Most importantly, thank you for sharing our pride.