Pieces of KC

1998 brought a whirlwind of firsts. I graduated from college, became a new mother, and stepped into my first professional role as an educator. It was a year full of excitement, uncertainty, and growth.

At the time, I didn’t fully recognize the support I had around me as a parent. I had big plans and even bigger dreams. I was young, proud, and admittedly a little selfish. I couldn’t yet see life beyond the boundaries of my own experience.

But like the dragonfly—an ancient symbol of transformation and adaptability—I would come to embrace change as a gift. In Japanese culture, the dragonfly represents hope and is even seen as a symbol of the samurai spirit. In ancient Egyptian belief, it signified transition and renewal. For me, it became a quiet guide, reminding me that growth often begins when we least expect it.

Once the ladybug made her way into my story. She brought with her a quiet lesson in love—real, deep, and unconditional. It was my first true experience of love at first sight. The kind that doesn't need to be explained, only felt. That relationship became a symbol of happiness and awareness, teaching me how joy can come in the smallest of moments.

Motherhood reshaped me. It taught me how to pour into others, even when I thought I had nothing left to give. Before, I never imagined my life could revolve around someone else. But the moment I was handed the title of “Mom,” I stepped into it fully. It’s the one role I know, without a doubt, I got right.

Being a mother settles my heart. It’s a constant reminder that I’ve known, held, and supported the love of my life. I’m lucky enough to remember the moments—and even luckier to still have the photographs.

Ladybug -April 1999

April 1999