First Time.

If you have ever traveled abroad, I am sure you can remember the rise of the buildings as you exited the plane, the sweet scent of unfamiliar territory that tickled your nose, the wonderment that rushed through your body as you climbed mountains and towers you never knew existed, posed in front of castles you only dreamed you'd visit, and danced with bagpipers in the middle of a rainy street in Edinburgh. You can probably remember the nescience that you first felt and the comfort that only took a few hours to acquire.

I can travel on the Parisian subway in my sleep. Sometimes, I do. Charles de Gaulle-Etoile to Champ-de-Mars-Tour-Eiffel. I can trace the route on the palm of my hand, plan the adventure while peering into the darkness of my dreams. And, I miss it like I miss her. I love it like I love her. Makenzie Jayde. Born January 1, 2010 at 1:33 in the morning, seven pounds, six ounces, nineteen and a half inches long--my idea of perfection--an angel swathed in hospital blankets and her father's kisses.

She is my Eiffel Tower. She is my Diamond Head Volcano. She is my Acropolis. She is my Mount Pilatus. She is my pink President's House. She is my Big Ben. She is my Alhambra. She is my Danube River. She is my Malahide. She is my Statue of Liberty. She gives me freedom. Her tiny hands are the anchor at my Ellis Island. Her small feet--the waves that toss me wildly about. Her sweet smile--my ticket to salvation.

Edinburgh Castle, Scotland


The Acropolis, Greece


Big Ben, England


The Eiffel Tower, France


Mt. Pilatus, Switzerland


Makenzie Jayde, My Love