06/07/2026
Strength isn’t the absence of tears. I learned that long before I understood what courage really meant.
I was the eldest daughter, in high school, when my mother suddenly found herself raising four children alone. My youngest brother was still a baby.
I don’t remember endless tears. I’m sure there were moments, but they were never what defined our home.
What I remember is my mother gathering us together and making one thing abundantly clear.
“We’re a family, and we’re going to get through this. We have each other, and nothing else is important.”
After more than twenty years away from pharmacy - a profession that had changed dramatically with the arrival of computers and new technology - she returned to work at the Royal Melbourne Hospital.
Every morning she would drop my baby brother at childcare, take the rest of us to school, and work a full day. In the evenings, she would sit on the couch feeding and playing with the baby while quietly talking me through making dinner for the family. It wasn’t elaborate - tacos, mashed potato, mince on toast, a roast or pita pocket pizzas - but it never mattered.
What mattered was what she taught us.
She never allowed our circumstances to define us. She focused on what we still had, not what we’d lost. She showed us that gratitude and hope can exist alongside hardship.
Over the years, whenever life has asked more of me, I have found myself subconsciously returning to those lessons.
A family united by a common purpose.
Baby steps, one foot after the other, even when the path ahead is uncertain.
Perspective.
Gratitude.
Life will test all of us in different ways.
Sometimes it asks us to be brave. Sometimes it simply asks us to put one foot in front of the other.
That is resilience.
That is courage.
