Five years have passed, and here I am, sipping tea from a mug I painted during one of the most difficult chapters of my life. A time when my daughter was fighting cancer. But surprisingly, this little mug doesn’t bring sadness. Instead, it holds a memory of joy, peace, and connection.
At the beginning of my daughter’s journey, my sister organised something special, a breakfast followed by a pottery-painting session. She knew us well, my daughter’s love for avocado and bacon, our shared passion for art. That morning, she picked us up and drove us to Robert Gordon Pottery, where we ate at Nancy, enjoying delicious food and amazing coffee. Naturally, being from Melbourne, we grabbed one more takeaway coffee (because painting without coffee? I don’t think so!).
The studio was quiet and calm. It was the first time in weeks that I truly felt relaxed. There wasn’t much conversation, just the occasional “What are you painting?” or “That looks amazing!” But mostly, we painted. We entered a state of flow, each brushstroke carrying away some of the stress I had been holding onto.
From the very start, I made a promise to choose joy over bitterness. And I tried. I looked for the good in situations, resisted the urge to let anger turn me into someone resentful. But, if I’m honest, I didn’t do much that actively brought me joy. When you’re a parent and a caregiver, survival mode takes over, and your own needs fade into the background. Maybe that’s why I broke after everything. Or maybe I would have anyway. No one can say for sure. But this I do know. Painting that mug was one of the happiest moments in our cancer journey.
What did my sister do? She didn’t ask probing questions, didn’t try to fix a situation that couldn’t be fixed. She simply sat beside me and painted. She gave me the space to find joy in a moment, without expectation or pressure. And that memory? It has stayed with me.
So, to my sister, thank you. You’ll never truly understand how much that quiet, simple act meant to me. How it carried me forward when I needed it most. I love you.
And if you’re reading this, I hope it inspires you. Sometimes, the greatest gift isn’t advice, solutions, or deep conversations. Sometimes, it’s just showing up, sitting side by side, sipping coffee, and painting a mug.
Katie X