10 Hours in the Florida Keys

My blogger friends Laura from The View From My Window and Christine from Just Blue Dutch nominated me for a 7 day Nature Photo Challenge a few weeks ago. Thank you Laura and Christine- your beautiful blogs with their amazing photography and insightful ways of looking at the world inspire me daily. This is my take on the 7 day Nature Photo Challenge- a travel diary of 10 hours we spent in the Florida Keys this past December.

December 29, 2015

9 a.m.

We leave the house much later than we wanted to. Considering there’s 7 of us including my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, it’s a wonder we made it out at all. It’s always a pretty drive though through the colorful neighborhoods of Miami. Ocean air. Billowy clouds. Lots of interesting characters to look at along the way.

12:30 p.m.

Finally. The 7 Mile Bridge. We are able to view where the sea meets the horizon for one solid blue line of harmony. This view always takes my breath away. As we drive down the highway and through the many miles of bridges along the Florida Keys, this view is all one sees when you look to the left and when you look to the right. There is no other place like it in the world.

3:00 p.m.

After getting caught in terrible traffic because a boat literally caught on fire on the highway and because it’s only 2 lanes all the way down- 1 lane going and 1 lane coming back, we have to change plans and stop much earlier than Key West- our original destination. We will never make it to Key West- I really had wanted to wave to Cuba and eat key lime pie but that will have to be next time. We discover instead the Marathon Keys. There is an exquisite beach with easy street parking nearby and a children’s playground. What luck! One of the many things I love about South Florida is the diversity of tongues you hear, the many tourists and families from all around the world speaking so many languages, each with their own accents. Heavenly music to my ears.

6:30 p.m.

We spend the afternoon playing in the water and sand. Ocean swimming. Hubby and I take turns with the kids. I race the boys out to go as far as we can go. Baby girl cries for me from shore and runs away from the crashing waves.The Atlantic is salty, pure and through. It stings your eyes, parches you out and leaves you feeling utterly relaxed and spent. We stay as long as the sun will permit us.

7:45 p.m.

We watch the sun set another day as we make the long drive home. Was it worth the drive? I look back at everyone’s sleeping faces- heads and toes sandy and salty and dirty. The smell of stale chips, sandwiches, cereal bars in the car. Half-empty water bottles rolling around on the floor. Hubby looking at me while he changes the radio station. If I close my eyes, we could both be 20 years old again, making this drive in a two-door car and not a mini-van with 3 sleeping kids in the back. Not having to sneak in real conversations with interruptions every 5 minutes. Not having to stop to let someone go to the bathroom.

Yes, without a doubt, it’s always worth the drive to the Florida Keys.

 

 

Our Little Birdie

Our dearest Amelia-

Exactly one year ago today we said goodbye to you Birdie. But you are here- we know that you are. In our dreams. You are the sky. You are the birds that fly in the sky- ever so gently and cautiously flittering from branch to branch. You were of this earth for 2 short years and yet you left a significant impact on every single person that came across your path. Did you know you left behind a legacy of strength and grace and pure love?

You were the 9th person in the world diagnosed with a rare metabolic disorder called Acyl-dehydrogenase 9 deficiency. No one could figure out what was wrong for so long. No doctor, no specialist, no surgeon, no one in the whole world. Your parents and family were puzzled. You had been born a perfectly healthy baby girl, yet within hours they realized something was not right.

Finally the diagnosis they had been waiting for came. It was the worst possible news that a parent could get- their worst nightmare- come to life.

But your parents, dear Amelia- well- you already know. They are two of the bravest, most courageous people I have ever known. It didn’t matter that the doctors couldn’t say exactly how long they could expect you to live. They didn’t focus on how much time you had left, never felt sorry for themselves, that they had been dealt a cruel hand. Instead, they praised and thanked God for you and focused on loving and inhaling you and living each precious moment that they were given with you.

They loved you in a way that was beautiful to witness. Everyone did. For a brief moment in time you were always there. At the beach on a summer’s night- bundled up in your stroller- sitting on the sand next to us- around the bonfire. At birthday parties like the Frozen party- where you stole the limelight from the birthday girl. At every family gathering and holiday- always smiling- filled with an inner radiance and light.

You never knew a life without shots, frequent hospital stays in and out of the emergency room, doctor’s visits, hooked up to your port- yet your soul seemed unencumbered. You emanated love and grace – not sorrow- not pain- not despair- not sadness. Instead, you knew love every single minute of your life- each one of us made sure of that and love you dearly we did- showering you with gifts, directing all of our attention to you, we’d pass you around from arm to arm and talk to you- “hello Mamas!” You learned to clap and wave and throw “besitos.”

You

You there. Yeah you. Just stop a minute won’t you?

I know you. I know you are tired. Your soul hurts. Your brain hurts from too much thinking, analyzing and creative problem-solving.

It’s hard to get up every day and be inspired. It’s hard to try to always look at the bright side of things- every single  day. People suck sometimes and no one likes or relates to what they can’t understand. It’s hard to be different. To always stick out. To always have to explain your story. To always be on your way to somewhere. Sometimes- you just want to be there already. You want to sit there and stare off into space and just be.

You’re too short or you’re too tall and you’ve got too many pounds you’ve been trying to lose for oh- three years now. There are way more wrinkles and gray hairs than you could have ever imagined at this age. Sometimes you get too emotional and say the wrong things. Then think- screw it- who the hell cares what they think anyway?

But you continue to get up, even if it’s half-ass. You never cook the pork chops all the way and end up having to stick them in the oven again and again until the pink goes away. You show up to the Girl Scout cookie meeting and listen to the ins and outs of cookie selling and smile politely at the moms you barely know across the table and ask about their Winter Break. You go on your 30-day sugar detox in the hopes of whittling away some of that layer around the mid-section and putting off that Type 2 diabetes that runs like crazy in your family.

You’re not dead yet. It’s not over. You need to keep up the good fight.

Just know that I understand, I get it. You are not alone. Rest your head just for a moment. Put your feet up. Grab your cup of coffee. Pull that blanket around your shoulders a little tighter. Cry in your car at the red light where no one sees. Go back to your daily meditation breaks, your hot yoga class, listening to Adele’s 25, to your podcasts, to your Spotify/Pandora stations;  reading the 3 sisters- the Washington Post, the New York Post, the Huffington Post- self-selecting those articles that get your heart beating  once again, scrolling through your Facebook and Instagram feeds, reading the blogs you follow, whatever it is that keeps you ticking and going and continuing to be inspired. Just don’t stop.

I won’t if you don’t.

Journeys

Happy New Year! I will not mince words here- I am terrified of writing this post.

Back in December when I was feeling all kick-ass and all, I signed up for Blogging 101 University through WordPress.

Here I am and my first assignment is to introduce my blog to the world and a fellow community of bloggers through this post. That means that people might actually read this. I’ve been writing and flying on the down-low- not really promoting the blog, not worried about what others might think- but now I am terrified.

Well I put myself in this so might as well move on with it. I have been writing this blog as a way to cope with the fact that I have moved halfway across the country from every family and friend I love. From Los Angeles, California to St. Louis, Missouri. Now I am five months into that journey. Much has happened.

I have learned that I love writing. I love the journey I am on and I feel like there is something bigger happening here. I want my blog to be about creating community for people who are on all types of journeys. They could be physical but also emotional journeys. Life- shit happens and we are all on journeys- divorce, death, job loss, sickness just to name a few. I want my blog to inspire people along their journeys and I want to learn from other people’s journeys. I want to continue to tell stories- my own as well as others. I would like to grow my blog to build a community of people who can inspire and support and learn from one other as we move along our life journeys.

What journey are you on?