We did cartwheels on the dock like we were kids again and then sat on the water trampoline side by side sharing life. We laughed. We cried. We drank. We bounced, and laughed some more.
It’s hard to believe that six years ago I was being admitted to the hospital to prepare to welcome you into this world. All five pounds of YOU. Our little bundle born in a cozy Auckland hospital room, who took your first steps in our little bungalow in Highland Park, had your first swim in the salty seas and have taken more airplane rides than many. One of your first words was ‘guitar’ [dee-ta] and you’ve loved music since the womb.
How do we still walk around thinking that we are not enough? Not tall enough, short enough, fit enough, skinny enough, healthy enough, smart enough, brave enough, courageous enough, mom enough?