Sometimes I feel as though I struggle to always find the right words for what I want to say. I try so hard to share these perfect moments, yet many times the words don’t see to form the way I hope.
I feel as though I stumble over my feelings and all the things I want to say seem to swirl around in my head.
I just hope that one day when my children sit down to this legacy I’m hoping to leave them, that they see into my heart.
That they will be able to read between the lines.
I’m missing Hawaii.
The coolness of the breeze.
The laughter of my kids as they swing in the hammock.
Theres a connection I can’t explain when I think of Hawaii.
Maybe because I was born there.
Maybe because I’m part Hawaiian.
Just being near the ocean, the sand, the people fills me with childhood memories.
Memories that I was able to share with my kids.
A piece of their heritage, a core part of who they are.
I’m enjoying this innate part of who we are.
I’m reminded of the joy that lit up my children’s face as they collected hundreds of little rocks on the shore.
I’m missing the splashing water as they ran in and out of the waves.
I’m remembering the smell of the sand and sunscreen at the end of the day.
That same smell that lingers in their hair long after it’s been washed.
I miss having no agenda.
No place to be early in the morning.
No beach to overlook while drinking my morning coffee.
I might vow to spontaneously skip all responsibilities and head to the beach.
Kiss my children once every few minutes.
Tell them I love them till they are giggling non stop.
Treasure every moment we have together.
Love more wholeheartedly.
Do something to bless someone else.
Do you ever feel this way when you visit home?