When I was 16, I was nervous the entire time I took my behind-the-wheel test. From the moment I sat down in the driver’s seat, doubt started creeping in, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t ready. When I found out I failed, I was absolutely devastated. I remember thinking, Who fails their driver’s test? It felt like such a big deal, and I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and defeated. I just wanted to forget the whole thing.

One of my mom’s funniest sayings was, “If wishes were fishes, we’d all have gills.” She’d say it every time my sister and I would start with our endless ”I wish I had this” or “I wish we could do that.” At the time, I never thought much of it–it was just something she said when we were dreaming big about things we didn’t have. To us, it was just a funny way to shut down our constant wishful thinking. But I see now it was more than just a punchline–it was her way of giving us a little reality check.

One of the sayings my mom loved to remind us of when we were growing up was, “You can’t have your cake, and eat it too.” It usually came up whenever my sister and I tried to pull one of our classic tricks–pretending to be sick so we could skip school. The plan was simple: tell Mom we weren’t feeling well, stay home, and spend the day watching TV or playing. In our minds, it was the perfect win-win. But, of course, mom had other ideas.

One memory that still haunts me is the feeling of being completely lost and helpless. It’s the kind of thing that sticks with you, even when you try to shake it off. I can still remember the panic, the sense of time running out, and the worry that I might never find my way back. It’s hard to forget that gut-deep fear, even now.

Mom always used to say, “A small act of kindness makes a big difference.” I never quite understood the full weight of those words until one year, when my sister, my mom, and I put together care packages for people in need. It was through a school project, but it ended up being so much more than just a task. It turned into one of those moments that stayed with me, reminding me how even the smallest gestures can have a lasting impact.

Growing up, my mom had a way of turning any chore into something almost fun. She’d always say, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” At first, I had no idea what she meant, but it quickly became clear. Whenever my sister and I faced the daunting task of cleaning our rooms, instead of the usual “Clean your room!” which felt like a never ending mountain of work, she’d say “Pick a corner!” She made it a game where we’d focus on one small area at a time, and suddenly, the giant mess didn’t seem so overwhelming. It was all about breaking down the big tasks into little, manageable steps.

As a kid, I didn’t always look forward to the weekly visits with my great grandmother. My sister and I would grumble about the time it took away from our summer break, and I didn’t fully understand why my mom was so insistent. But looking back now, I realize those visits were the “ounce of prevention” in a much bigger picture. The simple act of showing up with hot cocoa in hand, sitting down to ask my great grandmother about her younger days, was a small effort that became a rich and lasting connection.

One of the sayings my mom always told me was, “Healing starts with a calm heart.” I remember hearing it most clearly when I was in elementary school. I had broken my ankle while skipping down the stairs (classic kid move, right?) I was in a lot of pain, but as soon as my mom showed up at school, she stayed calm, and told me everything would be okay. She didn’t panic, and that made all the difference for me. 

I can still picture the day we went to the animal shelter to find a new addition to our family. My sister and I had our hearts set on getting a new kitten–you know the tiny, fluffy playful ones. But my mom had a different idea. She reminded us that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that sometimes the best choice isn’t always about picking something new. It wasn’t just about picking the cutest kitten; it was about looking beyond the surface and finding something that truly fit our family. And that's how we ended up meeting the cat who would steal our hearts.

My mom always used to say, “I say what I mean and I mean what I say,” and looking back, it was something I didn’t fully grasp until I learned it the hard way. I remember one particular instance when I was being especially sassy, talking back in a way that I knew would push her buttons. She warned me that if I spoke to her like that again, I wouldn’t be able to go to my friend’s sleepover. I didn’t take her warning seriously–I was certain she wouldn’t follow through.

My mom always says, “Every cloud has a silver lining,” and back then, I really didn’t believe her. Take sixth-grade camp, for example. I was dreading it from the moment I found out I had to go.I tried everything to get out of it, but my mom wasn’t having it. She made me go, and of course, it turned out to be a nightmare. I spent most of the week in tears, and my mom even got a couple of phone calls from my teacher. If there was ever a cloud over my head, that week was it.

When I was younger, my mom, my sister, my cousin, and I decided to take a weekend trip to Disneyland. We were so excited to get away, just us girls. But, of course, life had other plans. Our hotel stay was less than ideal. Imagine being woken up not once, not twice, but three times by the sound of fire alarms blaring throughout the night. Each time, we’d jump out of bed, throw on some clothes, and stand outside waiting for the all-clear, then go back into our rooms and try to sleep–only to have it happen again. It was exhausting, frustrating, and, honestly, a little ridiculous.