But sometimes I forget me. The spirit of me. The self underneath the daily work, duties, bills, and chores. The person that makes me smile and makes others smile. Genuinely.
I vividly remember the Andamen Sea breeze blowing the curtains of our paneless bungalow window several years ago. We hadn't been awake long on Ko Muk when I smiled and said to Chris, "This is the real me. This is who I want to be and how I want to feel everyday."
I wanted to be that alive every day. To not nag or complain or ever be verbally short or ugly in tone. To not rush or settle or miss out on the greatness of life.
Though we wouldn't ever trade being a mother or father or daughter or son or caretaker or friend, it sometimes overtakes us.
Sometimes I forget me.
The me that I am which no one else affects... a gardener, a fisherman, a sea lover, a photographer and a nature lover.
Today I had a few hours alone. I walked in our woods with the sun on my face, and I resurrected me.