I feel better today than I did your entire visit!
Dad beamed as I helped him down the café steps after his animated, hour-long indictment of Thailand’s dentistry education—far more rigorous in my days—to me and my partner. We were in Thailand for Christmas and dad had treated us to lunch—pick somewhere fancy—then coffee.
Dad looked better. He was still frail and flat as a board but his face was rounder, almost radiant. The radiation therapy he’d just completed at one of Thailand’s leading hospitals had not only restored his vision, it had breathed new life into him.
I was amazed, and delighted, to see him improve so drastically from a mere month ago when I was home for three weeks and he had seemed ready to die. I even felt hopeful as I waved goodbye: “See you in April!”
Two weeks later, I touched down in Ho Chi Minh City and saw two missed calls from dad. My heart sank—he only ever called when something was wrong.
I was right.
I will be there for you
Today is Monday, my first day back after two weeks of barely checking work messages. Typically, my goal would be to catch up on work and get ahead.
But not this week.
Yesterday, while filling in my weekly intentions document (more on this below), I realised the number one thing I want to do this week isn’t work—it’s to be there for my mom.
For three and a half years, mom has been dad’s sole caregiver as cancer ate more and more of him and their lives became ever more punctured by hospital visits—his nephrologist, his oncologist, his orthopaedist, his ophthalmologist, and now his radiologist.
At every twist and turn in dad’s losing battle, there was mom, quietly and efficiently performing any task that needed doing, however arduous or unsavoury. At mom’s side, there was no one—dad’s family lived in a distant part of the country, and I was a thousand kilometres away.
You should come home to care for your father, a relative had urged during my last visit. I had politely declined, telling her my life was in Vietnam, telling myself dad’s care was mom’s to bear.
It’s a selfish choice not to help my mom out, but it’s the choice I continue to make every day. I can’t work at home, I can’t exercise like at my gym, I can’t function without my partner and friends, I can’t maintain my psychological well-being. A myriad excuses to mask the one true reason I hate to admit: I don’t want to.
For three and a half years I’ve made myself a spectator to my parents’ shared struggle. Two times a year I fly over and briefly participate in our small family’s project of filling what’s left of dad’s life with happiness.
But I can do more—I want to do more. Which is why my intention this week isn’t to get ahead on work, it’s to be there for my mom. I may not be by her side, but I can message often to ask how she’s doing—not just dad—and send her heart emojis, which is our family’s way of saying I love you.
Weekly Intentions for 2025
The weekly intentions document I filled in yesterday is the well-loved brainchild of Katie Hawkins-Gaar of My Sweet Dumb Brain, a newsletter I religiously read (and so should you).
A long-time subscriber, I’ve been aware of Katie’s initiative since its inception three years ago, but 2025 is my first time partaking, all so I can focus my energy and attention on the one thing that truly matters each week and see how my priorities shift over the year.
This practice has fully transformed my approach to setting goals. Instead of big, ambitious, year-long resolutions, it’s a way to set smaller, more manageable intentions. It allows for flexibility—room for the write-from-bed weeks, for example—fun, and freedom. And, if you do the buddy version of weekly intentions, it provides a really lovely opportunity for built-in accountability and connection with someone you care about.
One week in, I already know this was a good idea. Without Katie’s prompt, I wouldn’t have considered what I wanted to prioritise this week and resolved to be mom’s moral support. Instead of checking in on her, I’d be plowing through my to-do’s and congratulating myself on my unrivalled productivity, leaving mom to handle dad’s most recent medical emergency alone, as I always have.
If you want to join me in setting weekly intentions for 2025—with or without an accountability buddy (I have one)—head on over to Katie’s newsletter (scroll to the bottom) where you can copy her template for your own use. The document is free, but I strongly suggest a tip if you find value in the fruit of her labour—no one should work for free.
What do you think?
I’ve shared my first weekly intention of 2025. Now it’s your turn:
What’s your intention for next week?
Hand on heart, what is the one thing/person/project/emotion you’d like to matter to you most next week? Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this post with someone you intend to savour 2025 with.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Thanks for sharing. Lots of interesting work through Arbinger Institute about honoring our intentions. And just a day ago, I listened to a podcast in which a doctor suggested a daily journaling practice consisting of three questions: What is the most important thing I need to accomplish today? What am I grateful for today? How will I show up today? Whatever the timeframe - day, week, month, etc. - the practice of building and honoring intention is a valuable one.
The fact that weekly intentions pointed you in such a meaningful direction means so much, Val. What a gift.