summer sara

As the saying goes, blink and you'll miss it. I'm talking about Boston summers. And gosh, what a shame; it's the hub of cerebral and physical fitness. When the warmer weather finally arrives, I am not often found indoors. One such day last month, I packed up a little friend of mine (you can see her little finger on my lap pointing at the boat) and took her on her first kayak.

Her feet dangled over my leg into the water, she, in her innocence, marveled at the passing ducks and boats, barked back at her echo as we passed under bridges, and let the weight of her back press into me, her face angled to the sun, with a smile to end wars. I'd like to say it's the power of the kayak, of summer, of sunshine beaming on eagerly awaiting naked feet. And it is, but it is also just her. Sara. She is a tranquil soul with a lot of gusto.

We have random conversations and play silly games. Later that day, we played just one question. It's a game.

Sara's question to me that I turned to her: If you could have one gift in the world, what would it be? (She's a kid...she likes gifts...can you blame her?).

Sara: "A jet pack."

Me: "A jet pack? like Buzz light year? That would actually be pretty cool. Nice choice." (assuming it's of supernatural capabilities and not Tonka Bros.).

Sara: "AND...for you to be part of my family."

Me: Silence. Heart melting. Big hug to sara. "I love you Chupy." (That's my nick-name for her...long story for another day).

Sara: "I love you too, Ya-Ya." (again, another day).

Sara is my summer, no matter the time of year.