It started at my desk.
Bundles laid out, moved around, changed again.
Is this good enough?
Is this right?
Will someone actually choose this?
That feeling sat with me most of the lead-up to Mother’s Day.
Somewhere in between that, my mom would arrive —
coffee in hand, something to eat.
Dutch cheese, lunch.
“Come on Sammy, you need to get out your chair.”
And I would.
Out into the garden, checking the veggies, pretending for a moment that I wasn’t thinking about orders and timing and whether everything would come together.
Back inside, it was more of the same.
My dogs under the desk.
The cat on the visitor’s chair.
Another on the cushion on my desk, like it belongs to her.
Just there. Quiet. Keeping things steady.
And then Esther.
Peek-a-boo from the side while I’m trying to think three steps ahead.
Little interruptions that somehow break the panic just enough.
Because there were moments — quite a few —
where I wondered if I’d missed something,
if I’d done enough,
if it would all come together.
And then, slowly, it did.
Orders placed.
Boxes packed.
Couriers booked.
Somewhere in between all of that —
SISU had its first Mother’s Day.
Same same. But better.