Lessons Beneath the Load

For the Lessons, We Give Thanks

By Dianne Dunchie-Coley

There is a quiet comfort in the familiar. The earthy aroma of freshly ground coffee, the soft sweetness of cinnamon drifting through the air, and the gentle hum of conversation folding itself into the morning. These rituals greeted me as I stepped out of school during morning tea and entered our favourite café in Ngatea, Stop & Eat Cafe.

She was already waiting, her smile dissolving the heaviness of the day before I even sat down. This café had long been our sanctuary. Over countless cups of coffee and more than a few cinnamon brioches, we had shared laughter, tears, and the silences that only love can hold.

We slipped easily into our usual corner. The words flowed between us, effortless as always. Then she stopped, her gaze lingering on me with unusual intent, and said softly,
“Mommy, you look really happy.”

Her words reached into me and found their truth. A smile rose gently, without effort. “I am,” I answered, and the weight of that truth settled with grace in my soul.

Her eyes glistened, heavy with tears that lingered but stayed in place. “Sorry, mommy,” she whispered, her voice fragile.  “I knew it was me that made you stay in that job for those three years.”

The air grew heavy with the burden she had carried in silence. I reached across the table, taking her hand, and pressed her palm with assurance.

“Do not ever be sorry for that,” I told her. “Yes, those years were hard, but they gave me lessons I could never have gathered any other way. Lessons in patience, in resilience, in knowing what matters most. And for you, my daughter, I would do it all again.”

In that little café, with coffee cooling and a half-eaten brioche between us, we opened the memory of those years. We spoke of the struggle, the weariness, the moments that tested both of us. Yet what rose to the surface was not despair, but growth. Pain had been our teacher, shaping resilience into our bones and deepening the bond we share.

For her, the lessons arrived earlier than life usually requires. For me, they came exactly when they were needed. Together, we carried them into the present, into a moment defined by peace, clarity, and gratitude.

Life reshapes us through trials we never request. While we may not welcome suffering, we can choose to honour the wisdom it leaves behind.

So today, in the familiar warmth of our café refuge, I give thanks. Thanks for the journey, thanks for the strength unearthed in hardship, and thanks for the love that carried us through. And in the words of Koffee, I also ‘buss a toast fi di friends weh tek off heavy load,’ because gratitude  must extend beyond ourselves to those who lighten our burdens along the way.

For the lessons, we give thanks.