You Are Loved Beyond Measure
How Did I Get So Lucky?
Every day I look at you
and wonder how
I got so lucky.
You are more than
I could have ever imagined
a daughter would be.
You are beauty.
You are sunshine.
But it is your heart
that I am most proud of.
You are kind and compassionate
to anyone lucky enough
to circle your orbit.
You treat people
with respect and dignity.
You do the right thing
even when no one
is watching.
I am thankful every day
that I was the lucky one
chosen to be your mother.
The Lessons You Have Taught Me
When you become a mother to a baby girl, you are expected to become a role model for her.
To teach her all of the valuable life lessons she will need to know to transition from childhood to adulthood.
But what I never expected as a mother was the life lessons you would teach me in return.
You have taught me to open my eyes to the beauty around me.
To notice the everyday, simple things that bring us joy.
To see possibilities instead of obstacles.
To listen more than I speak.
To be open-minded to new ideas.
And that, at the end of the day, all that matters is the love and kindness we share with others.
Never Forget
Never forget to hold your head high and keep moving forward even when your spirit is low.
Never forget to stop and smell the flowers along the path and appreciate all the beauty life offers.
Never forget that being kind to others is always the right choice to make in any given situation.
And never, ever forget that you have a mother who loves you more than anything else in the whole wide world.
Kaleidoscope
Things I Never Told You
I never told you how scared I was to take you home from the hospital after you were born.
You looked up at me with absolute trust that I knew what I was doing.
But I was terrified I wouldn't do anything right.
I never told you that I cried when you started school.
That I cried when other kids treated you unkindly.
That I cried pretty much anytime you did when your heart was broken.
I never told you that being your mother has been my life's greatest gift.
That you are all I ever wished for and dreamt of.
That I could not be prouder of who you have become.
That I will be in your corner forever and always.
A Changing Situation
My mother, Carol Veysey, was a beautiful writer and especially loved writing poetry. I know she would have loved to have had her work published while she was alive, but never got the chance. So one of my favourite parts of being a writer myself is publishing her work whenever I get the chance.
Here is a poem she wrote when she was younger, which I feel is fitting as we start a brand new year. She describes a desire to see a world filled with peace and free of war, which is just as relevant now as it was many years ago when she first wrote it.
A Changing Situation
by Carol Veysey
The dove of peace flies o’er the world,
Disheartened, not contented,
Seeing flags of war unfurled,
And killing unrelented.
This dove of peace swoops down to earth
To view the situation;
Finds only war, no joy or mirth,
He feels an obligation
To relieve the world of dire distress.
But how?
With shame, he lowers his head,
Fellowship under God, no less -
But he cannot help the already dead
And suffering.
The changing situation is accounted for -
War and more war;
The world will feel a moral decay:
They’ll learn that war will never pay.
Won't someone stop the eternal bickering,
Warfare, and resentments;
The peace…lights of many lands are flickering,
Could we now make our amendments?
The Advent Calendar
My Christmas trees have never been fancy, with perfectly matching ornaments and set color schemes. Instead they are decorated head to toe with ornaments that carry special meaning. Mini photo ornaments of loved ones no longer with us. Ornaments specially ordered and engraved with phrases such as “baby’s first Christmas” or “daughters are special.” The same angel sits atop the tree that has been there since my childhood.
Other than putting up a tree, I never bother putting up too many other decorations. But there is one that holds a special place in my heart.
When I was a child, my mother was part of a neighborhood sewing circle. She and the other women made advent calendars with individually stitched ornaments that you put on each day of December. On Dec. 25, you put on the final ornament, which of course, is Santa.
Growing up, my brother and I took turns every day in December putting on the ornaments. We would switch the order every year so that we could take turns putting on Santa. That advent calendar came out every Christmas without fail. And other than a few sewing touch ups here and there, it stayed in perfect condition, because my mother would pack it away so carefully every year.
Time marched on and I eventually moved out on my own. But my mother kept the tradition alive, first with her and my brother taking turns putting on the ornaments, and then her alone after my brother passed away after a long illness.
When I had my own little girl, my mother offered me the advent calendar, but I wanted to wait until she was old enough to appreciate it (and also not destroy it during her terrible twos).
Then just a few short years later my mother unexpectedly passed away when my daughter was 7. As I was cleaning out her apartment, I came across her overflowing boxes of Christmas ornaments – and our beloved advent calendar, still packed away in the same box it always had been.
Now every December, my daughter continues my childhood ritual of putting on the advent calendar ornaments. And this special connection from my childhood to hers brings me more joy than any fancy ornaments and perfect decorations ever could.
Coffee With Mum
I do not understand how people can get through life without coffee. For me, it is fuel, it gives me energy, and makes me so very happy! Flavoured coffee is the best, lots of milk and sugar. Black coffee? Please, don’t even go there…
My Mum always loved her coffee too. She would joke that she drank roughly a pot a day, which did not surprise me at all. Mum also loved coffee mugs. If you didn’t know what to buy my mother for a gift, a coffee mug was always a safe bet. Preferably one with a funny expression on it. The more sarcastic, the better! Also, anything with pigs on it (her favourite animals, other than my two pooches).
When she passed away, and I was cleaning out her apartment, she had so many coffee mugs, I wasn’t sure what to do with them all. Of course, I wanted them all for myself, but I knew I didn’t have enough space (as most of my cupboards were already filled with funny mugs that Mum had given me as gifts).
So I donated some, gave some to her family and friends, and kept the rest for myself. Most of the mugs were smaller than what I was used to drinking out of (as I pretty much need a thermos for my morning wake-up coffee). So I started a new tradition.
Each day, anywhere between mid-morning and mid-afternoon, I have (yet) another coffee. But for this particular caffeine boost, I go into my cupboard and pick out one of Mum’s favourite mugs.
And I sit down and have coffee with my Mum again.
Push/Pull
My daughter and I went swimming today. A hobby that has always bonded the two of us, our shared love of water has been a constant since she was a toddler. But not so much lately.
My daughter just started middle school, and although she seems to like it, she comes home every day completely worn out. All she wants to do after hours is watch videos on her phone and play on her backyard trampoline. Swimming with me? Not so much.
And it’s not just swimming. Lately, our mother/daughter shopping trips and Dairy Queen visits have turned into solo runs. She is too tired, she says. “Can you go by yourself, Mom?” I always have to stifle a giggle, because how on earth can an 11-year-old be so tired? Wait until you’re my age, I say to myself silently. Then you will understand what real fatigue is.
Sometimes she asks me or my husband to leave the room because she wants some “alone time.” Other times, she says she only wants Daddy to watch her on the trampoline, not me.
But then she will surprise me by asking for a mother/daughter “sleepover,” which baffles me because she was never the kid who asked to sleep in our bed. Or she will get a bit jealous if I make plans with a friend that don’t include her.
Alas, the pre-teen years have begun. This wondrous game of push/pull she plays with us now. Tiptoeing around her, never quite knowing if she needs us close by, or wants more space.
It is new and puzzling, and her wants and needs seem to change daily. I am constantly on standby, never quite knowing if I will be needed or not at any given moment.
So I sit. And wait. And watch for signs. And I tell myself not to take any of it personally, because it is not about me. It is NEVER about me. It is about patiently guiding my daughter through this confusing time in her life, but also stepping aside when she needs me to.
I miss the little girl who always wanted to hold my hand crossing the street. But I am happy that she is confident enough now to cross that street on her own.
But I still can’t stop myself from reminding her to look both ways before crossing. I am still her mother after all. It is what we do.
Life Lessons For My Daughter 