One of my earliest childhood memories is of a family vacation to Hong Kong.  It was my first time flying, and it just happened to be a 24-hour flight from Miami (not such a great idea on my parent’s part). I didn’t fare well up in the skies.  I still don’t.

Despite the endless nausea, I do have flecks of memories from the trip.  Simple things a child would latch onto.  A red, Coca-Cola yo-yo my older brother swung up and down throughout the trip.  My knees weakening as I peered off a high-rise apartment balcony.   When I leaned my head forward, the occasional breeze from the passing cars below wisped my dark bangs away from my forehead.  I raised my arms slowly pretending I was a bird, hoping the wind would carry me gently and safely whichever way it blew.

I was almost 4-years old then, right around Babisodes’ age right now.  Only, she is fearless around ledges, and marvels at aircrafts in the sky.  This trip to Florida is her seventh time flying.

I’m hoping that this time, some glimmers of memories will stick.  Perhaps of her building castles in the sky,

…or in the sand with her mother.

Wishing you a Happy Mother’s Day.