takapuna beach, new zealand.
when i get bigga,
i can touch the staaars.
i can gwrab dem all.
she said. nodding her head in unwavering assuredness.
i’ve been looking, i’ve been wandering. i’ve been intertwining my life with as many similar soul searchers as fate allows.
she’s two and a half and she has all the answers.
the innocence. the possibility. an uninhibited, simple fire for an uninhibited, simple life. for joy. for amplifying happiness with books and songs, balloons, music and dancing. with stories from memories, from her imagination. feeding goldfish, blowing bubbles. singing and laughing and loving.
she’s a good kid. the best kid i know.
she will touch the stars, big or small, they twinkle and shine for her.
and last night we all slept in one big bed and pearl was tossing and turning and her feet and legs were all over the place and i couldn’t help but laugh aloud, and i did, and so did she and so did leah and then i went silent as tears took over laughter and i wept.
i cried in a way i’ve never cried before. i cried for how much i miss her, even as she sleeps right next to me. i cried for the amount of love i have for her. i cried for all the things i won’t be around for once i say goodbye again. i don’t want her to leave, i don’t want them to leave. i love them, so much. i miss my family. more than ever. the homesickness feels physical, emotional. i had it figured out, it was buried deep in my aching heart, but having them here has shifted all that has been hiding it from plain sight and daylight. it’s not a 3am feeling anymore, it’s 24 hours of every heat-filled day. and the heat seems only to be building in each hour and minute i’m away.
i love this life, the uncertainty of my future, flying by the seat of my pants, chasing dreams and summer, the unknowingness. but i miss my biggest loves,
more than i knew,
more than i can say,
more than my quiet heart knows how to feel.
i can’t tell you how grateful i am for you to be here.
it’s nothing, she said.
it’s everything, i said right back.
my heart breaks as i think about them leaving. i don’t know if i’m ready to miss them all over again.
oh my goodness, i want to tell you all about it!
i want to tell you how my heart raced and my breath was caught between my throat and escape. i want to tell you how intently i watched the exit, thinking everyone was them as my eyes lit up with the excitement that rushed around my body. i want to tell you the feeling that came over me when i saw them, walking out the door, nearly exactly how i remember. the loving relief of her mum, the recognition in her eyes and the cheekiness in her grin. how my heart melted with happiness. how my tears welled with gladness. how everything was just so right when she wrapped her tiny fingers around my own so big and clumsy, and walked with me, chatting, asking me questions, looking up and giggling at me. her two and a half years can’t explain how clever she is, she’s witty so wise so very wonderful, beyond her years.
pearl and her mummy on their debut overseas adventure, to visit me in hawaii. i think i just might be the luckiest girl in this world.
my dear dadda.
i will always save my last hug for you – i love you and i miss you. so much.
thank you for everything you’ve taught me – to throw a baseball, to shoot, to paint and sand and find a stud in a wall to hang a frame (ha ha). to stay curious. to tell the truth. to be observant. the value of a perfectly timed joke. how i should never judge anyone because i don’t know where they’ve come from. how important it is to love, everyday.
to the best man i know, happy birthday x