A Rollercoaster Friday: Courage, Care, and Warm Tea

Last Friday was a whirlwind. After two weeks of revalidation for my daughter, it was finally her last exam day, a day we all had been looking forward to. My son, ever the supportive brother, came to help with the wheelchair, and we planned a relaxing, fun day together.

The day started with a little self-care moment for me. After enduring two weeks of freezing weather, I rewarded myself with a luxurious warm bath—bliss! In the meantime, @borniet had thoughtfully gifted me a printer to create personalized mugs. After hours of trial, error, and some puzzling, the result came out perfect. I sipped my tea from one of those newly minted mugs, feeling quite accomplished.

As a family, we spent the afternoon playing games, sharing laughs, and enjoying good tea. It was a day to recharge and enjoy each other’s company. But, as life has it, the day wasn’t done with us yet.

While getting ready for bed, my daughter @dutchie-art asked me to sit with her. She had received a disturbing message from a best friend. Initially, I didn’t grasp why she was so upset, but she explained further. She already had contacted another peer, pleading for someone to alert the girl’s parents. My daughter reminded me of a critical detail, her friend had attempted suicide a year ago.

Suddenly, everything clicked. We both stayed up waiting for news, hearts in our throats. Morning came, and with it, a message: her friend had attempted suicide again. Thanks to my daughter’s quick thinking and outreach, her friend was found just in time and taken to the hospital. Her parents were grateful beyond words.

That day, my daughter became my hero. At just her age, she listened to someone in pain, acted decisively, and saved a life. How many adults freeze in such moments? Yet, she carried that responsibility with maturity and grace. And when I grow up, I want to be like her.

The day called for deep recovery, both physically and emotionally. I wasn’t online or chasing productivity; I was present with my children. We had profound conversations, the kind that you don’t plan but sometimes need.

And you know what? It reminded me of something simple yet profound: every day demands something different from you. Sometimes, it’s patience. Other times, action. And often, it’s just listening. Really listening, to our children, our friends, to each other. Noticing that people are scared for the future. That really stands out for me.

So today, we focus on rest and on each other. Life doesn’t come with a manual, but it sure comes with lessons. Take the time to breathe, connect, and honor the small, big moments, like a warm bath or a game night that, somehow, turned into saving a life.