All It Takes Is a Little Play-doh

Nothing like a little Play-doh to make you think of family.

Since coming back from Indiana, I’ve been missing my immediate family terribly. And who have I missed the most? My precious, adorable niece.

Today, for no reason at all, my hand slipped into the pockets of my jean jacket (which I consistently wear with blue jeans, in my own way, bringing the Canadian tuxedo back in vogue). And what do I pull out of it? The same Play-doh that my niece Bea was playing with my first night in Indianapolis at the Italian restaurant where we had a birthday dinner for my dad.

Among the many different reasons why I love my niece (and there are countless), one that keeps coming up is what she represents and what she reminds me of. If I had not survived getting hit by that car on 12/22/08, then I would have never met her the day she was born, exactly three years later to the day 12/22/11, let alone been blessed with all the time I’ve had since my rebirth and all the time we’ve had together since her birth.

She’s a blessing. And always will be.

As she has at other points in her young life, she came to lift my mood today as well.

And all it took was a little Play-doh.


Go Adventure. Go Travel. Go Live.

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