Every Little Thing

A week ago, I was very reluctantly leaving this glorious beach

and the beautiful Jamaican villa we'd called home for the previous six days.

I feel like the girls are in this magical sweet spot for travel right now - no longer needing naps or structure or baby proofing or even a real mealtime or bedtime, but not yet cynical about the world or bored by their dumb parents - and I want to go everywhere and do everything with them. Last week, we were here, celebrating my brother's wedding at long last to the lovely woman I finally get to call my sister.

The trip, then, was about the wedding, but that was just one afternoon, so it also got to be about waking up every morning to read and drink coffee on a balcony, about swimming at all hours of the day and night in our own little pool, about cold Red Stripes and pina coladas, about kayaking and snorkeling, about climbing Dunns River Falls with the whole wedding entourage, about eating nearly every meal in our bathing suits, about guava jelly on toast, about drip castles, about making one another helpless with laughter several times each day. It was about ignoring email and phone calls. It was about reading the girls to sleep with extra-long stories each night. It was about hearing Jemma wake us up in the morning, singing from her room: The Beatles' "Good Day, Sunshine," or Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds," of course. Every little thing was (more than) alright.

The wedding? Was lovely. I don't think a single person got away with dry eyes, except maybe the two wide-eyed flower girls, both of whom were too intent on playing their roles correctly to tear up as Brett and Meagan exchanged vows under a palm-frond arch in a tropical garden. I followed everyone around, trying my best to capture the moment with my new-ish camera, and mostly just felt lucky to be part of such a happy day in such a happy place.