Traveling Nomad…
Dear Jacob,
It has been a while since I’ve had the time to sit and write to you. You have been growing too quickly and keeping me very busy, its hard to keep track of all of our special memories together. Many events have happened in our lives that are keeping us on our feet, running errands, traveling, bonding, and growing. It seems like there isn’t enough time to sit and think about our days, but here I am once again writing and remembering those little moments that have brought us closer together.
Shortly after a rainy Halloween, we flew down to Florida. It was election week in the United States and the blue and red signs covered the curb lawn until no green was visible to the naked eye. Cookie cutter houses and the closed in communities are splattered around uncontrollably in the state. Everything looks the same and plain, but there was something special about our week in Florida. There was a feeling of serenity floating around in the air that made our time there relaxing. Life goes by slower down there and the weather was deliciously hot. We spent most of our days next to the pool, teaching you how to swim and chasing you around so that you wouldn’t fall into the pool.
Not long after we returned home we began packing for our next trip. We were headed to Banff for a Christmas family reunion. I was very excited to reunite with my family once again. It had been about 5 years since we had spent Christmas together and this was a special one for us because it was your very first one. We spent three whole weeks preparing for that special day at the Elkhorn Lodge. Every other day the smell of cookies would put us all on a Christmas spirit trance. I packed presents until the wee hours of the night ever night, sneakingly making sure the wrapping paper wouldn’t wake you or your cousin up. Every night I went to bed and watched you sleep, so innocently unaware of my piercing eyes.
Later on our first week, after learning about the Sandy Hook shooting, I went to bed troubled. The pain of losing a child is incomprehensible to me. I looked at you and instantly became grateful for the blood rushing through your veins and the warmth that you radiate. I lied down, staring at the ceiling as you slept peacefully next to me. The log walls looked kind of eerie in the dark, the wood would always creak and the furnace would rumble through the night. It was peaceful and warm in our cabin. I closed my eyes and I concentrated on your breathing. There was nothing more relaxing than the reassurance that you are healthy, alive and happy. I took that moment and I savored every second of it. Then you let out the custest toot, which instantly brought a smile to my face.
Daddy came close to Christmas time and brought with him a nasty flu. Christmas eve was beautiful. Colombians and Mexicans reunited for a feast, bunuelos and a hearty bowl of Mexican posole were among the hit dishes that night. Of course, my cookies were a major hit and were sold out almost instantly after being set out on the counter. All of you, kids, were happily fighting over toys and crying for more sweets as we anticipated the arrival of Santa Claus. Everyone else played games and stuffed their bellies with food waiting impatiently to rip open their presents. I, on the other hand, was busily taking care of your father who was battling a 39.9 fever on the couch. It was a Christmas to be remembered and I would not have had it any other way!











First time on a swing.
Cold day at the sand box.
Family outing at Downey’s Farm.







