About this blog

My only daughter's name is Clea. Clea was six years and nine months old and she was enjoying a family holiday in Samoa when the ocean surged as a wall, ten metres high, and drowned her. Many other people died that morning of 29 September 2009.
The other four members of her family survived the tsunami.
Life has never been the same since. It will never be the same. This blog features memories, reflections, poetry, etc...
Just let me stay with her under this moon,
hold her in my arms, spin her in the air,
with my dear daughter in some timeless swoon.

Thursday, 3 January 2019

16 today

You should have been 16 today. You should have been.
I would, or I should, have given you a present today, for your 16th birthday. A very special one. Already a young woman, or very close to being one. My little one, mi babita.
But I cannot give you your present, because you are not here.
Yet here is your present, one you would have liked to see, without any doubt. A present we can share with whoever chooses to have a look here.
A few starfish. Like the one you and I found on the southern shores of Upolu barely 48 hours before the ocean rushed in and drowned you.
That starfish was dead. These were alive and happily greeted us from the shores of a beautiful lagoon in Vanuatu. I gathered them and put them all together – like a team! So I could take the picture for you, for your birthday. Can you see them, Clea? Can you see your birthday present? Aren’t they beautiful? Beautiful, like you were, like you would have been today. 
Loveya, babita. Always.