Dear Reese,
I am listening to Brené Brown’s new book Strong Ground, which was released today. Or, we are listening to it, since I played it on our morning commute and for the first ten minutes of our evening one. Evening rides often turn into music. Which is fair. You are a little person now and less tolerant of D&D podcasts or books on daring leadership.
I switch it back to the Hairspray soundtrack, one of our musicals on rotation.
This evening we walk down to the pier at Rocky Shores together. I hold your hand on the dock, though you fuss a little at the lack of independence. I do let you climb a few rocks . . . far from where the water starts and with heavy supervision (I have to put in that last part so when MorMor reads this, she doesn’t think I’ve let you do something too dangerous).
The sky is blue and pink as the sun sets through the clouds on the horizon. It’s quite peaceful.
I tell you that I love it here, and this is what I wanted for you — to grow up by this bay.
Love,
Mama