It's Summer, so Reach Out and Touch a Cloud

View from our second flight as we flew over Cuba.

The first leg of our trip was a red eye and even if I had wanted to look out the window, I was too exhausted to even try. I had barely slept at all over the past several days as we finalized preparations for our trip and finished out the school year. But when the sun rose and we began our next flight, I couldn't let much time go by without making my way to the window and taking it all in. It is against my nature. So I talked Ceci into letting me sit in her seat and she sit on my lap. We peered out together as the plane flew over Cuba and that is when I felt the first surge of summer. I was free from the preoccupation of school, work, and the rigor of our weekly routines. And I was present, just taking in the view with Cecilia and actually able to listen as she chattered along. "Mommy, I wish I could reach out and touch a cloud," she began.
"That would be fun! What do you think it would feel like?"
"A cotton ball!" she responded with an enthusiastic smile. And then her next thought came as she pointed to the wing of the airplane, "Imagine if you could walk out on the wing!"
"Do you think you could survive?" I questioned.
"No way!" she exclaimed. And without a breath, she continued into her next thought, "And that's what I've always wondered...what if we didn't exist? What if there was no world?"

At that moment I remembered having those same deep wonderings as a child, my mind not able to grasp the what-ifs and the hows of this grand universe. And as an adult I still don't understand everything, but at that moment, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the blessing of being a mother--her mother and Marcela's mother--the chance to journey with them in this life and to share the deepest of thoughts and questions, and especially to be able to really listen in the moment to her little mind and how it's processing everything that she takes in. These are the moments that invite true teaching and learning.

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Fast forward to a few days later as we were in the bedroom at Abuela Rina's house and I was brushing her hair, Cecilia said, "Mommy, this might make you cry, but why do you love me?" My heart smiled. She is so tender. And she knows that to express my love, sometimes I do cry. This time I didn't cry, but I told her all of the things that we love about her: how she is the comedian of the family, how her singing brings life to our house, how she is so kind-hearted, how she loves to read and how her artwork brightens our walls, how life just wouldn't be complete without her and the beauty and light that she brings to it.

I'm thankful to be a mom and I'm thankful for summer vacation where the daily rhythm of life can change enough that I can see, feel, hear, and touch these precious moments as a mother. The photos in this post came from one of those moments when I was free to follow Cecilia's impulse to venture into the quiet street in front of Abuela Rina's house and dance and spin in her Sunday dress for the camera. I love these pictures because they are her. I just followed her cues and her innocent, childhood beauty glowed in the setting sun. I need these moments to relish in the beauty of simple things that fill me.