The Last Push Before the Pause

This year has been long. Not just in days, but in the sheer drama each one insisted on carrying. It’s been a year of showing up even when we were tired, of doing what needed to be done, and of holding things together. There were endless plot twists and way too many hospital waiting rooms, not to mention my anxiety and mania flaring up, my poor bipolar couldn’t keep pace with everything, no matter how many pep talks I gave it. Yet, here I am, still standing and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

For me, it’s been another year of medical appointments, scans, check-ups, and second opinions. I had a lumpectomy earlier this year. The recovery was… let’s just say “uncomfortable” is the polite word. It brought nausea, pain and very light sleep. Then came the biopsy results, unexpected, startling, and a little heavier than I’d prepared for. Cue more decisions, more conversations, and medication with very bad side effects, which were not just uncomfortable, but unsafe. We decided to go for a second opinion, where much of the same was told to me, except I required further testing.

So, I’ve cancelled the rest of my appointments and tests, for now. I’ll come back to it next year, when I have more energy, more clarity, and maybe a stronger tolerance for hospitals and doctors. Right now, I’m choosing rest over resolution. I’m choosing to listen to my limits… and maybe a few more naps.

As for Adrian, my quiet hero, my constant. This year, like every year, he poured himself into our family and business with unwavering devotion, never asking for recognition. He sat beside me in the darkest moments, when fear and dread crept in, and laughed with me in the light, when joy bubbled over. He held the seams of our world together with strength and no complaint. I see how much he’s carried and the toll it’s taken. This break isn’t just a nice idea, it’s something he’s earned a hundred times over. It's essential.

Then there are the boys, each on their own path, each doing the best they can. They’ve earned this break, too. They’ve all worked hard and have grown in ways I couldn’t have predicted. Now, they need rest. They need space to breathe, to sleep in, to laugh and have no deadlines, even if only for a few weeks.

Nova Tread Africa, our business, our baby, has been running full steam ahead. We’ve packed orders, answered emails, managed logistics, and kept things moving even when we were running on fumes. December 12 marks our last day before the break, and it couldn’t come soon enough. We’re tired. Not just physically, but in that deep, bone-heavy way that makes you crave silence and stillness. We need to step away, close the laptop and stop checking messages.

And we will.

We’ve booked our holiday… Marloth Park. Can you believe we’ve never been? It feels like something we should have done years ago, but maybe this is the perfect time. We’re going to the bush. Little to no Wi-Fi, no schedules. Time to sit under stars with just the sound of the bush and the people I love most in the world.

Christmas will come. The food, the gifts, the lights, but we’ll think about that later. First, we finish this last stretch. Then we rest. Then we remember what it feels like to breathe without a to-do list. To sit together without rushing, feel the sun on our skin and the quiet in our bones.

We’re almost there, and I’m holding onto that with both hands.

If you’re reading this, I hope you’re looking forward to the end of the year, too. I’m sure you feel just like me, tired, grateful, maybe a little bruised, but still here. No matter what this year threw at you, you’ve kept going. You’re still kicking, still breathing. You’ve worked hard for this rest.

For those of you who aren’t getting a break, who are still working through, I see you. I’ve been there. I know how that feels. Take comfort in knowing you, too, have made it through another year. You’ve shown up every single day. That matters. You matter.