Sun, Sea and Sand…

“The cure for everything in life is salt water – Sweat, Tears or Sea…”  - Anonymous

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Dear Riddhie,

Isn’t it strange that people talk about finding calm and peace in the sound of the waves crashing on the shore? The sound itself doesn’t echo a musical note, yet helps sort out the most troubled souls. Perhaps its the feeling that you get when you are standing before a huge body of water or staring down a cliff – the feeling of your existence being such a trivial thing in the entire scheme of universe. Personally, I guess I like the sea better than a mountain side. I totally enjoy the first sight of sea and the first whiff of air that fills your lungs when you are entering a beach or just passing by the shore.

My first memories of a beach are of Juhu beach in Bombay (OK Mumbai). Though, if you were to compile a list of top 50 beaches around the globe based on their beauty or cleanliness, it may not find a place in the list but it still somehow is special to me. I was really young then and the first sighting of sea wasn’t just joyful it was almost magical. I remember the few visits we made to the beach on that trip, your grandma would buy me and your Bunty uncle a green coconut and we would have fun looking around for shells or just running along the sand, getting ourselves soaked in the spray. Interesting to note here is the fact that apart from the food stalls and the hawkers and a special characteristic ‘stink’, the beach doesn’t offer you much. There are no boardwalks, no roller coasters and more notably no civic sense in most people to help keep the area clean yet the entire experience remained fresh in my memory for years. In the last few years, I made couple more trips to Bombay and as a rule always visited the beach, even if I was going there for a day.

August 7, 2011 turned out to be your first visit to a beach. Location, Sea side heights along the Jersey shore. Perfect weather, not too hot and a pretty good boardwalk with lots of rides and colors and things to do, which I am sure you would have enjoyed way more had you been a little older. The place, in fact, turned out to be way better than our expectations. There weren’t many people around so the place wasn’t really bursting on its seams and there was ample parking space available (a thing which you would have gathered over the years that I am a little paranoid about).

The beach was about 60 miles away from our place and starting early in the day saved us from being trapped in traffic queues or other similar inconveniences. Once parked in and on the boardwalk, you were ecstatic delighted at the play of colors and people around. Your joy knew no bounds once you came in sight of the ocean. The huge mass of water and the play of waves spraying white foam on water was a sight to behold and you truly seemed mesmerized by this first vision. Your mom tried getting you with her to the water but I guess the magnanimity of such a sight got the better of you and you shrieked in fear every time the waves tried lapping up your feet.

Once it became clear, that you were going to keep a safe distance from the water, I decided to help you with the next best thing to do – play with sand. We sat together away from the water to observe how you dealt with this new element in your environment. I guess this was your first encounter with sand as well and you had a considerably good time playing with it. You apparently wanted to have your mouthful of it and I constantly kept deterring you from it until you got tired of the entire thing altogether and wanted to be picked up and be handed your milk bottle. It was perhaps then that we decided that you have had enough and probably it was time to head back.

Your mom cleaned you up and gave you a change of clothes before we sat down to have some lunch by the beach. Though it was tough carrying your stroller, bags we carried and you all the way from the beach to the parking lot and we were panting hard by the time we settled back in the car, overall it turned out to be one good outing. In fact we were so pleased at your reaction and the way you were mesmerized looking at the water initially that the following weekend saw us do an encore and we checked out a sister beach of Sea Side Heights called the Point Pleasant as well. 

I am sure you would have seen the entire picture set that we have from these days already but for your reference let me pull out a few and post them here as well. In fact I shall also add in a small and only video we got in accidently while clicking your pictures with sand at Point Pleasant.

Love,

Dad.

 

Of Lazy Sundays and Sunshine Mornings

“I’d like mornings better if they started later…”  - Anonymous

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Dear Riddhie,

To begin with let me clarify that no matter what the quote above implies, I still am and have always been a morning person. But then it would be incorrect to say that I do not enjoy an occasional laid back lazy morning.

When I was younger, there were times we would sleep on the terrace under the stars on summer nights. It was fun being lulled to sleep watching the moon play hide and seek between the clouds or be able locate an odd shooting star once in a while. There were no desert coolers and no Air Conditioners and life and needs were simpler. I however, used to hate it when the morning light streamed through the shut eye lids and forced us to be on our feet and back downstairs to our respective rooms, often as early as 4:30 or 5:00 in the day. While on days when there was school, it seemed torturous to be up so early and to start preparing for the day ahead but during summer breaks and on Sundays, it often meant to be able to snuggle back into the bed and sleep till the time your grandma wouldn’t make us get up again.

While those days are long gone, I can not help but wonder what lies ahead. Would your generation ever get to know how blissful can the simple joys in life be? I can’t really say at this moment. Maybe by the time you get ready to read this, I shall have a couple more answers. As of now as I type this in, you have crawled under my desk and are looking to eat off the floor and as I bend down to stop you, you have moved ahead and are laughing at this little game of yours. Perhaps, this is as simple as it can ever be for you. 

Coming back to my stream of thoughts, I am reminded of an easy laid back Sunday morning couple of weeks ago. We woke up to the sun filtering through the open curtains and enveloping the room in a golden honey glow. The white sheets that you were sleeping on reflected the light back and your sunshine smile made it all the more special. It was one of those days again after ages when despite having woken up early I did not wish to rise from the bed. I guess, few years from now when you shall have your own routine and schedule and when I perhaps would drop down on your list of priorities such moments of leisure and magic would become hard to come by.

Maybe then I would spring up these pictures that I took of you on that beautiful Sunday morning and fill in the same sunshine in my wrinkled winters then. No matter what happens to us then, I shall wish the same happiness that you fill my heart with now, for all times to come.

Love,

Dad.

Fangs…

“What is scarier – vampires you can see in movies or the kind you are transformed to by your evil within?”

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Dear Riddhie,

This one might surprise you a bit as it more or less springs out of no where. There was this picture of you from Point Pleasant beach where your lateral incisors are showing a bit and last night while watching some old vampire movie I thought of doing a picture of you out of fun mainly with a view to test if I still had some photoshop skills left in me.

Your mom was not too appreciative of the endeavor but I guess it overall turned out to be one good piece (well, looking strictly from the art perspective of it). I posted the picture online on FaceBook with the title ‘Taking PhotoShop to the Extreme’ and my friends and people showed mixed reaction to it. 

I am sure by now you would know me as much, to adjudge that I don’t give a penny to what people’s reactions are to things and ideas that I believe in. I read this quote long ago when I was in school and it somehow stuck forever. Maybe I did mention it to you in some previous letter as well. It says ‘If you are standing upright, don’t worry if your shadow looks crooked”. Well, I guess I live by this rule, have always done so and if I am not gone as yet, I shall perhaps continue doing so. The take for you here is that you need to back yourself up specially when the wind is in your face.

Anyway, this also sprang up another notion in my head. Few people in the family wanted me to delete the picture, there were others who said that it wasn’t right to do that to your kid’s picture and someone even commented that it is not right for ‘religious’ reasons. (Yeah, well the last comment ensured one thing that I wouldn’t delete it now). However, looking at positive side of things, it also means that people perhaps love you more than they love my PhotoShop skills. :) Another inference drawn is that shocking images still get people to pay attention and that the opinions are still majorly drawn from clichéd and banal value systems (Little babies are meant to look cute and not menacing). 

Ah, well, just to conclude this little post and round up my thoughts here. There are few things that came up from this episode and which I believe I should share with you. First, I love you as much even if you tend to be this little monster and throw up a few tantrums at times and Second it is more important to have a conviction and do your own thing despite people telling you what you ‘should be’ doing. I guess over the next couple of years I shall juggle between the person encouraging you to find your own ground and your own sky and being this worried old man wanting you to conform and fall in line on certain things. I guess in the larger scheme of things both these roles are equally important and probably you shall realize this over the course of your life.

For now, I guess I shall just let you be, as you again crawl under the table and hold my knees to get up. Let me also tell you that here in Jersey, this is the night when Irene – the hurricane visits us in a few hours from now, having already wrecked coasts along Virginia but more on that in a separate post.  

Here is the picture that started it all and the second one in yellow tinge which I did not post earlier as I thought it wasn’t good enough along with the original picture that was ‘touched up’.

Love,

Dad.

 

The Pacifier Story

“Raising kids is part joy and part guerilla warfare”  - Ed Asner

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Dear Riddhie,

It may seem funny to you but truly one of the first things that I wanted to buy for you here was a pacifier. Not that they were not available in India or something, but I guess a need for having you use one became paramount after we arrived here in the US. You see, back home our support system included your grandparents and your multiple aunts and uncles and other elders who would willingly hold you when you felt irritated or displayed a willingness to be held and strolled around, but here the only people you ever saw were your mother and me and at times, I guess it became a little too monotonous for a baby, like yourself.

So, once you got settled in and accustomed to your new surroundings, it did not take long for you to be bored of the same faces you saw around every single day. Gradually, I observed that you started getting a little hyper and resorting to screaming and constantly babbling and crying. I looked up some references and it occurred that a pacifier might help distract you for some time and help you get off your recently acquired habit of crying out for every single thing you wanted.

The following weekend saw us reach out to the nearest ‘Babies R Us’ store to zero down on a perfect pacifier for you. Now this may seem a little exaggerated to you, but then having had no previous experience of buying one and having seen only a few limited options that one has in India, it was overwhelming to see an entire section of the store dedicated to the baby pacifiers of various kinds. There were ones segregated by the infant age and then by the types. There were pure silicone ones and pure latex ones and then a few in-betweens. There were calcium filled ones and dry suckles and then with separate cases and tags and then those without them. I had never in my dreams had thought that it would ever be a matter of research but then I actually ended up looking up Google to find one that would serve the purpose.

Once home we were in for another surprise. Even after multiple attempts at coaxing you into it, we could not get you to hold it or make it stay in your mouth for more than half a minute. You loved spitting it out or throwing it off as far as you could and we gathered that it was now perhaps too late for you to get hooked onto it. It eventually turned out to be a lost battle.

By the time we sat down for dinner that day, you had finally asserted and firmly etched the authority of an infant over its parents. I finally realized that as parents we can only hope to do the best for you and forcing things upon you was certainly not the way to go about it.

But then there is a funny side as well to this story. As we started eating we let you sit by my side. The moment my eyes turned aside you picked up a chicken wing from my plate and happily started digging into it. Since you were still teething and could not really chew, I deduced that probably it felt good on your gums or something. An idea sprung up and I cleaned up a wing, removed the flesh and handed out the soft bone for you. You accepted the same delightfully and were all relaxed and intent with your new prop instantly. All the energy that you were devoting to screaming and jumping and rolling over was now channelized onto this little piece of interest that you relished rubbing on to your gums and gnawing on as your tiny little teeth permitted.

I guess thereafter as a ritual once we wanted you to sit quietly or keep yourself busy, we would spring up a fresh cleaned up and softened bone and hand it out to you. Maybe in all those shelves in the store where we searched for a pacifier, another box of ‘pacifier bones’ needs to be added.

By the way, to those others who might be flinching at the idea of an infant sucking on a bone for a pacifier, let it be known that I would never give Riddhie something I do not believe in myself. A bone once cleaned up is a good source of calcium and I guess rubs the gums the natural way to help ease out the itching during teething. The only thing one needs to ensure is that there are no sharp edges to it that may hurt the child.

For you Riddhie, if you think that it wasn’t the right way to be, have a look at the following pictures and see for yourself the satisfaction and the delight that you derived out of the entire act.

Love,

Dad.

The Shopping Companion

“Shopping is a woman thing.  It's a contact sport like football.  Women enjoy the scrimmage, the noisy crowds, the danger of being trampled to death, and the ecstasy of the purchase”.  - Erma Bombeck

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Dear Riddhie,

Continuing the pattern from the last few posts, I shall talk about things you did and the way you went about your day in the first few weeks after we arrived here in the US. I guess you would have had a look at the hundreds of pictures that your mother and I clicked of you while we were here by now. I guess this became your mother’s primary pastime as she went about her activities in a day.

 

Till the time, we moved into an apartment, we were living in a Marriot property near the Newark airport which incidentally also had a shuttle service to the Jersey Garden Mall. This mall, let me add, was otherwise also a stone’s throw away and one could easily walk to it from where we stayed provided one was willing to battle the heat and the summer Sun during the day.  

With me being sucked into my daily routine at work and your mom spared of any household chores, thanks to the room service attendants, she suddenly had a lot of extra time at her hands. Her restricted access to her periphery because of her not driving and you by her side, the only other feasible option was to take a walk to the shopping mall. With you on your stroller, she would either walk or take the hotel shuttle and spend her time checking out the various outlets there, almost on a daily basis. I guess it did help her gain some confidence in moving about alone (as in without me) and for you it was a welcome daily show of lights, colors and people around and enjoyment.

You came back with little knick-knacks and fancy girly stuff at times and happy overall with your daily outing. This also helped giving you your vital daily movement and in tiring you out for a timely sleep and your mom admitted that you were perhaps her best shopping companion ever and she loved getting you along and buying things for you unless you had to be taken along in the ‘Try-Room’. I was told that you simply hated being confined in a small changing room and cried your heart out in the little time that your mom had to spend there trying out some accessory or a piece of clothing.

This pattern ensued till the end of the first week and a half, after which we moved to a place called West Point in Philadelphia for a work week, owing to few official meetings that I had to attend there. Though you did not get to move around as much, but there was a small complex around and your strolls continued in the open lawns around, if not in the confinements of an air conditioned mall.

We moved into an apartment near the Union station directly from Philadelphia and your daily shopping spree had to take a break. The apartment, however gave you more space to move about and crawl than the hotel suite that you got used to and personally I think you liked it more too. By this time you were learning to stand on your own and use the furniture or articles around to get some support. Incidentally your first few steps were taken in this place. I shall talk more about your stay here and your subsequent sight seeing trips in the letters ahead. For now, here are a few pictures of your very first outing here, needless to add, at the Jersey Garden Mall.

Love,

Dad.

 

  

 

The Long Flight Away

“No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel, until one comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow” - Lin Yutang

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Dear Riddhie,

I am sure if my limbs remain intact by the time you get to read this, you shall have already travelled and seen a lot (I can’t say how much would you remember it though). But then as the saying goes ‘a journey of thousand miles begins with a first step’ let me begin by telling you about your first long distance journey.

There are primarily two reasons for me to tell you this story. One – it helps bridge facts in the right order since my last post was your trip to the US embassy and a few following this would be about your experiences here in this alien dollar land and Two – Even though it is no big deal anymore, back when I was growing up, travelling overseas was not everyone’s cup of tea and somehow I was taking you along it kind of felt good doing it. So, then why not tell you the story as it happened.

I took the advise of your Parul Aunty (You shall probably know her as Maalvika’s mummy now, though as I key this in you two haven’t met as yet) and booked our tickets on Jet Airways for your first trip. And well, it turned out to be one good decision overall for not only was the carrier comfortable, the crew turned out to be more helpful and polite than all Uniteds and Continentals and Lufthansas put together.

We started well in time from Sonipat and as it had to be, the entire family escorted you to the airport. The cab ride to the airport was not as smooth as you would have liked but we did manage to reach on time. The flight was from IGI Terminal 3 and when we reached the gates you were just not willing to get off your grandpa’s arms. I am sure it was a difficult moment for him as well but then what had to be done, had to be done. We waved everyone goodbyes and walked into the terminal. Incidentally the baggage check in and security rounds went smooth. You kept throwing smiles and waving at odd strangers and security guards and airline crew attendants alike and well, I must admit, that most of the times it worked in favor of us being let in without extra fuss. Even at the immigration counter, where there was this guy with a sad morbid look on his face, you kept making your cooing sounds and he almost HAD to give in and nod and smile at you.

Once we were through with the paper work and collection of boarding passes, there were still 3 hours or so to go before we could board on. You did all you could in those three hours that we sat there whiling our time. There were multiple diaper changes, screaming and laughing and your rolling around that we soon were the center of everyone’s attention. I was beginning to wonder how would you do once you were airborne. But luckily it all got sorted out once we got inside and grabbed our seats. You had your allotted bassinet and after an hour into the flight, were fast asleep in your tiny crib.

The flight had a changeover at the Brussels airport and we again had about three hours to go before we boarded again. So officially, Belgium is the first country you visited or set foot on after India. You woke up fresh at the airport here and then once you were fed and cleaned and given a change of clothes again, you were joyously jumping around in our laps and seeking attention of everyone in the vicinity. Once airborne again, we had some difficulty initially, in trying to feed you as you wanted a share from everyone else’s plate but later settled in nice and easy in your crib and slept through most part of the journey.

Touchdown and arrival in US went off pretty smoothly with the usual routine - a round of questions asked at the immigration, hunting for your baggage and then finding a cab to the booked hotel. We checked in around noon and thus ended your first long journey, with you slipping in quietly under the sheets and catching the much due jet lagged sleep.

I shall talk about your experiences and other things that you did (and are doing as of now) on this trip in my posts to come. For now, here are a few shots of you, that I took with my phone at the Belgium airport. 

Love,

Dad.

       

The Embassy Adventure

“The most difficult part of a journey is often getting the first foot out…”

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Dear Riddhie,

I don’t know if or not the rules of the world or the dynamics between countries would remain same by the time that you get to read this but what I know is that there shall always remain and thrive apprehensions in the minds of people about a journey that they wish or need to take. And trust me in the times that I am keying this in, it still requires some effort to just do the procedural paper work and fill in applications and get necessary approvals to travel overseas.

With this letter, let me narrate how we went about making travel plans for you and rushing about your passport and visa applications before we set out on your first trip to the States.

Now this story does have some twists and turns and yes, a couple of lessons for you to take note of and well a happy ending too, so stop slouching and sit up as you read this.

For the records, let me begin by telling you how the entire thing started off. Your mother and I had applied for our L2 and L1 visas for the US in the month of February 2011 foreseeing an upcoming work related travel assignment for me. Incidentally not only were our applications rejected, they even cancelled out one of my existing B1 visa stating that since they could not hand out a work visa they need to ensure that I do not leave the country on my existing business visa.

In due course my travel got finalized and I had to re-apply for my work visa. My office ensured that they filled out an individual petition this time (simply put, they are kind of more expensive to apply for) and I appeared for the interview again and secured the visa as needed in the month of April. (This is when I had travelled for a month or so and brought you, your ‘bouncing babbles’).

However, once I returned, there arose a need for me to be back in US on the same project and since you had already caused me a heartbreak in the previous trip, I decided that I need to take you and your mom along which meant that your passport and visa applications had to be filled and your mom was required to undergo the same interviewing process again.

Your mom was particularly tense this second time around. Not about the mental hassle that one has to endure during the process it was more to come to terms with the fact that if I was required to be away for a longer period again and if she was denied a dependent visa how would she stick around alone managing things on her own. It was precisely for this reason that we had decided to move from your city of birth to my place of birth in the house that I grew up in, earlier this year. Anyway, to cut a long story short, having faced a denial earlier, your mother was extremely tense about facing the interview again.

 The first twist in the story came in a week after the date of the interview was scheduled. The interview had about a week to go and on one of these days as I was in the shower just out of the blue I had this weird feeling that something about the applications was not right. The hunch was so strong that as soon as I was out, I was on the system reviewing the applications and whoa when I least expected it, I discovered that the petition number filled on your mother’s application was incorrect. It was a typo but it could have seriously impacted her prospects at the interview. I made a few quick calls and filed in another application and submitted it just in time so as to still make it for our original appointed date of interview. However the lesson for you – ‘Always listen to what your subconscious tells you. Never ignore the signs and when in doubt, err on the side of safety’.

Then just a night before we were scheduled to appear for the interview your mom and I were sitting and sifting the documents and aligning the folders. I was looking at the attachments your mother was required to carry for herself and you and was explaining to her the process all over again and the way she should carry herself and all and I noticed a list highlighting a few optional ‘good to carry’ documents for the interview. It was almost 10 in the night and a Sunday which implied that there was no way I could get a photocopy done if I wanted to. I am usually organized about my papers and usually carry extra copies of important documents filed in and indexed. It wasn’t long before I dug out an extra copy for your mom to carry, if needed. And guess what, that turned out to be the first document that the interviewer asked for the following day. Your mom and I could not suppress a smile when that happened. The lesson – Be organized and orderly and it never is harmful to be extra prepared.

I drove you and your mom on the morning of June 27 to the embassy and there was this final twist pending. The way it works right now is that one needs to find a parking spot at the ‘Malcha Marg’  parking lot and walk towards the embassy which is about a kilometer away. Though you were fed and brushed and given a diaper change in the car minutes before we parked in but as soon as we stepped out, you decided to soil the diaper again. This was then followed by last minute ‘in the parking lot and on the car seat’ diaper change again and we were just in the nick of time when we reached the gates. Normally people who are escorting the candidates are required to leave them at the queue on the gate and are not permitted to step inside. I however, decided to stick around to help your mom with your stroller and diaper bag and the documents. 9 out of 10 times I would have stepped aside in accordance with rules and I was actually about to do that when I for some uncanny reason asked the guard on duty if I could accompany your mom inside as she was needed to look after you if need be and to my surprise he looked at me and asked if I was carrying my passport which I anyway was since I was the prime applicant. He looked at it briefly and allowed me in.

The rest turned out to be as smooth as it could be. With you along and you at your screaming and excited best for some unknown reason, we were allowed to jump lines and face the papers and go for finger prints ahead of others queuing up.

When the final interview came in, your mom sat you up at the counter and you turned towards this lady who sat there and kept making cooing sounds to her till the time she actually sat up and smiled at you. There were hardly any questions asked and before we realized we were told that the passports have been retained for stamping and the visas have been granted.

As we came out, your mom was delighted no doubt and you were more interested in your bottle of milk than anything else in the world. The challenge now was to sort out everything and fly out in next 10 days. I guess I shall save the story of your first flight experience for the next letter.

Here, however is a picture of you taken from your mom’s phone the same evening at your Ashima Masi’s place.

Love,

Dad.

The Dip, Splash and Shower

“Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself…” Antoine de Saint – Wind, Sand and Stars, 1939

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Dear Riddhie,

This is more like me revisiting the weeks gone by and looking at things that somehow got missed out being accounted and documented here. 

It happened in the last week of June 2011 when your mom and others in the family decided to go out during one hot summer evening to a water park on the outskirts of the city. My first instinct to such impromptu plans is to usually turn them down and I was more apprehensive about how you would react to the place and definitely the hygiene and cleanliness factor of the water in the pools but somehow I gave in to the insistence this time around and agreed to meet everyone at the venue and rode in straight from work.

 

I guess it turned out to be one decision that I did not regret later. The water was fine and the day not falling on a weekend there were not many people around and we more or less had the entire place to our disposal.

It was endearing to see you take delight in splashing the water around and jumping in glee every time we held you and dipped you in. You had a whale of a time soaking in and sliding down with your mom on a slide or two. We stayed back for dinner after changing into our regular clothes and as I remember you loved holding onto spoons and throwing paper tissues around. I guess it was one delightful evening with the entire group including your uncles and aunts along and perhaps your first pure fun outing altogether in a way.

I am sure as time goes by, this day shall become only a tiny speck in the scheme of things but then life is about counting moments worth spent and not the total number of days in a way. Let’s hope that we have more good times like this in days to follow. Here are a few more pictures from the day.

Love,

Dad.

The Hiatus and Back…

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work. - Doug Larson

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Dear Riddhie,

I am sure you shall ask me what took me so long to come around and write another letter to you. If you check in the dates it sure has been more than a month since I wrote to you.

Ah well, dear it’s just been so that I have been running around a little much for my own liking in recent times and then there has been this constant shuffling and travelling and fine-tuning and making adjustments to new places and people around that it left me panting and gasping for my personal space and time. But then I guess I am back now and hopefully the next few days shall see a spurt rise in the number of letters and posts that I make on this blog of yours.

I have been making a mental note of things that happened in last few weeks and maybe I shall begin from where I left in the last post that I made so that there is no gap for you.

In my last letter to you, I wrote about the heartbreak you gave me when you refused to recognize me at all after I came back from an overseas official trip. Well, to ensure that this was not repeated, I ran pillar to post rushing things to get your passport done and applied for a visa for you and your mommy so that I could get you along on any future trips that came our way.

I shall talk at length about your adventure at the US embassy and your first air travel and the experiences thereafter in the letters to come. Things have changed a lot in these last couple of weeks that we have been away. You have grown up a bit and have learnt to stand up on your own. There already has been one or two incidents of your taking a first step, though we are yet to see you take a few steps on your own without persuasion. You have had your first set of lower central incisors and upper canines are just about showing up and then you have learnt to dig your teeth into your Ma and Pa. I guess I shall talk about all these little things in detail and perhaps a little more frequently now than ever.

Just hope that I can keep up with your pace in days to come. There also is a whole bunch of your pictures waiting to be posted. So, concluding this little bridge of a letter to jump onto your little stories from weeks gone by, here’s you from the week before we travelled with you on your first trip to the US.

Love,

Dad.