I believed!

From the moment you were to be mine, just the spec of magic within, I knew

From the moment you entered my world, eyes wide open, I knew

From the moment you started to blossom, so unique, I knew

From the moment you reached each milestone in your young life, I knew

From the moment you started to become a young man, I knew

From the moment I woke up today and have seen your beautiful face, I knew

From the moment I hear you laugh, you cry, you feel, I knew…

I’ve always believed, I’ve always known, you have always known I’ve known… you would, you are, you will be awesome!


Every now and then I gasp for air, I’ve lost my breath and my heart feels heavy. Losing my father has taken me by surprise, more so than I had anticipated. Just now as I was working away and had to fill in security questions, it asked what my father’s middle name was. Bang, it hits me, this thing called grief and the tears flowed so unexpectedly.

It has only been seven months since my Dad has passed and so much has happened in my life since then that I feel I haven’t quite had the time to let go and fully grasp that I have lost a parent. At times, it can be conflicting. Conflicting because he hadn’t actually been in my life for years. I mean, I always sent him a Christmas and birthday message and politely he would reply back with a thank you but we were estranged. Our relationship had certainly been tested what felt like my lifetime, yet with many magical and loving memories along with heartache and sorrow.

Those around me I felt didn’t expect me to get so upset, or perhaps narrowing that down to immediate family because he had been absent and classified “not a great father” so to understand the grief I felt was hard to ascertain. I have felt alone with my sorrow on most points and it’s been hard. My son has been lovely and has tried to understand my loss. We both connect in having the absent father and in some ways, it can often be only he and I that are on that same page. In particular, it’s be hard on days like today when I’m hit with sadness knowing I will never speak to him again. I’ll never hear his accent or English humour nor will l ever hear him sing or play his guitar which was a highlight in my life.

What is good is that I don’t live in regret. I know all that could have been done and tried my end was done and I am at peace with that. In his last years arriving back in the UK after living in the USA for many years, so very unwell, allowed me to let go of the hurt and disappointment. It served no purpose for me or for him as he couldn’t remember anyways. Although through distance, we regained a connection, we spoke regularly and at times terribly hard to listen to his confusion and pain, we connected. He still called me “Shellybubba” at times and always thanked me for calling and returned my love you.’

On our last conversation, it wasn’t too long which was normally the case, however, it will be the one I will always remember. You see, I hadn’t called for a couple of weeks, partly due to my life crumbling apart with my own issues but also I was in fear he would forget me. I couldn’t face that he wouldn’t remember me, his daughter. After the years of heartache, feeling he wasn’t there physically or emotionally, the selfishness, the silent abuse, the manipulation – whatever it was, I was his daughter and we loved each other no matter what.

I called and we spoke about nothing really as it was hard to make a conversation with him many of the times. Sometimes better than others but often my questions were met with one word answers and then he’d become confused and excuse himself off the phone. It often broke my heart to hear what once was a strong, forthcoming, extremely intelligent man talk like a child and feel so confused. I apologised for not calling and tried to explain my reasoning and then admitted to my fear of him forgetting me with a quiver in my voice and obvious I had tears. There was a moment, this beautiful moment where he became the dad again and me the little girl. He said, “Shellybubba, I would never forget you, never. Come on now, stop those tears” and then he was gone. Back to the confused soul needing to get off the phone and go back to his comfort zone in the home. We said goodbye and told each other we loved one another.

I will never again have a Dad, my Dad here, even if absent, he’s gone.

💚 💚 💚

Parenting is a Privilege

My son deserves a champion in his life, one who will never give up on him. A person who understands the importance of the connection between a parent and a child and one who insists he becomes the best person he can possibly be.

I would like to think I am that person.

What I find just as important is that my son is my champion, my connection and my motivation to become the best person and parent I can possibly be.

I did not think it was possible to love my child any more than the moment he was born, yet I did.  My heart continues to make space for this growing love.

What a privilege it is being a parent – I’m so honoured!

Love and Light 🙂

Happy Mother’s Day!

A little poem I wrote dedicated to all the special women out there, in particular my darling Mum and Nan. Love, Light and Snuggles to you all!  Happy Mother’s Day! xo

The feeling of comfort
No matter how old we may become
From our first breath in life
To ourselves as grown up Mums

The feeling of happiness
Knowing there is always that love
Either here in person beside us
Or from those that are up above

The feeling of gratitude
For they are why we are
A hero in retrospect
With learned lessons near and far

The feeling of true inspiration
With many of you I’m in awe
With beautiful hearts and souls
You are worthy of this cause

The feeling of deep love
For those that are, have been or will become
You are all wonderful women
You are all amazing Mums

I’m a mother of a teenager and I’m excited!

It’s the eve of an era, the night before my boy becomes a teenager and I’m excited.

Crazy you say, some might think so; some may say I’m delusional, and even in denial, yet I’m not.  I’m truly excited and tonight I’m asking myself why?

Over the past couple of days my feelings of sadness and negativity towards my son turning into a teenager have gone. I had so much fear.  The fear of being alone, of him not needing me, the fear of having no significance in his life, the fear he may not love me as much, and fear of the unknown.

I think this fear started to shift a few weeks ago as I shed a few tears while chatting with my Mum. I was complaining how I had been confined to my room over the Christmas holidays as my son and his friends took over the lounge room. I was sad and felt alone due to the snippets of dialogue I seemed to grab in between his conversations with his friends either in the room or via Skype and other forms of social media.

My Mum listened and then said, “you know Shell, he needs you more now than ever and just knowing you are in the other room is the biggest comfort you can give him.” Just as Mum said these words, in came my beautiful boy, leaned over, kissed me, and then walked out again.

Mums do not stop being right.

I think this was the pivotal moment where my fear shifted. I started to embrace what lies ahead.

I am planning a big holiday later in the year that I’ve been saving towards for a couple of years. It occurred to me that he will be the perfect age to travel, to take in all the culture and be the best companion while we share these experiences.

I’m excited!

I started to have little daydreams about teaching him to drive, watching him excel further in school and in life, meeting future girlfriends, knowing he’ll always need me to some degree even if he doesn’t know it; helping him with career choices, making his own travel plans, and the list goes on.

No, I didn’t get as far of thinking about grandkids – ewe now that’s just incomprehensible. 😉

But I did start to get excited.

I started to reflect on my friends who have teenagers and one dear friend in particular, Sam who has a few. I don’t think Sam realises what an amazing mother she is and what a great teacher she has been to me.

Her teachings and insights have been in abundance. I have been shown how to be patient, not to judge to hastily, to pick your battles, and how to really love and let go.

Through Sam, I’ve become excited.

I’m excited that like Sam, I too may influence and share insight with my other darling girlfriends who are mums or soon to be with younger children who one day, soon enough will also be facing the eve of teenagehood.

I’m excited as I write this, that my boy’s just got out of bed struggling to sleep due to the excitement of tomorrow – I think they always stay little boys to some degree.

I am very proud of the young man my son has become. As he enters this new phase, I am also proud that I have had something to do with it.

So am I crazy, I think not. I’m a mother of a teenager and I’m excited!

Happy Birthday Bubba! I love you more than all the stars in the universe. I’m so proud of the beautiful soul you are and the amazing young man you are becoming.

Bring on the teenagehood!

Love, light and snuggles xo