It’s a birthday tradition. For almost 32 years now, my mom and I talk on the anniversary of my birth (the actual time and all). And every year, I ask her to tell me the story of when I was born. It hasn’t gotten old yet.

“I remember where I was,” I told one of best friends last night about my memory of where I was in life when one of the most important little girls in my life came into this world. I was at the airport.

Yet,  initially had the wrong airport. I’d thought I was coming home from Panama, but this morning I realize that was another life-changing milestone years prior. I was actually in the airport—exhausted—coming home to Illinois for my little sister’s from my Maynard Institute fellowship in Reno. Nevertheless, another milestone in my life was being marked by one of the best little blessings.

Happy birthday, my sweet little goddaughter!! I love you so much!!

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