Sitting by a Window

Everything is put in it's rightful place and organized. The schedule is not complete but will soon figure a way to make all the wants and needs to fit in a timely and orderly fashion. And the best of all, is that I'm here.
Roughly 2 weeks ago, I began the arduous task of packing up my belongings, once more, and carefully packing up my car (and what later over loaded into my dad's dodge pickup truck). My friend drove down from Idaho to meet up with me and together we would caravan down "the 5" through California to Los Angeles. There we would unpack both of our cars, carry all the belongings up a flight of stairs, and sometimes having to juggle with the stairs, front gates that can not be propted open, and must be unlocked by a magnetic key (for safety reasons of course), and finally collapse on the floor in shock and awe that we made it.
Those next two nights while I awaited patiently and gratefully for my parents to come down with the rest of my "shtuff", were a little longer then I anticipated. As I laid on the air mattress, and listened to the strange noises outside in the big city that I still not familiar with, I wondered how in the heck this was all going to work out. "Was I crazy?"
But to my relief, my mother and father knew exactly what to say and do that would make what was an empty apartment, feel like my own "home" and remind me that this is my time to dedicate to me so that I can later serve others. The furnature was put together and placed in the room, the walls were decorated slightly, and the cubboards filled with with food, books, movies, or clothes and other annonymous items. As they left, and it was just my friend and I heading back to our seperate apartments, my heart was lifted, knowing that my family loved me immensely. That no matter where I could have moved to, they would have done all they could to try and be there for me and help me get established.
So, now, here I sit, after cleaning for the first time, and taking inventory on everything, and having completed my first day as a graduate student, I'm still filled with that same feeling. Even though the sounds of an ice cream truck going down the street, dogs barking, the loud black lady that randomly talks to strangers and the zooming cars that wizz by, I can still feel at home in my apartment. Just me, myself and I; sit and be grateful for everything that i have and continue to wonder how can my life be more blessed then it already has? And what can I do so that I can try and repay just an ounce of what I have been given?