The morning we left for Catalina
the clouds were gray
with doubt.
I stared at the surface of the sea
and faded
into nausea
until relief came
when I coughed
to make myself throw up.
When we arrived
at the shore the sky turned blue
with possibility.
I watched our children play
in wet sand
next to bricks
laid by laborers early
in the last century
while my husband held my hand.
When our children begged us
to let them try parasailing
we did, despite being afraid
they might look like little Icaruses.
We let ourselves see their laughing faces
turn into tiny bright stars.
