The Last Time I Carried My Son

Through Rock, Through Mud, Through Growth – the last time I carried my son.

I knew the days of carrying Kai were coming to an end. He’s 10. With each day I could see the window closing. Ry and Cruz are already too big. I felt heartbroken that I don’t remember the last time that I carried them. How could I let that precious memory slip away?

So I made it a personal mission to document the last time I’d carry Kai. I scheduled an afternoon off as did Peter. I knew just where I wanted it to be. Then it started raining. “Are we doing it?” we kept asking each other. The clouds got heavier with rain and I didn’t feel my personal best but YES – we were doing this. It had to be that day.

So we headed to Kahakuloa in a light rain to the spot where the ferns grow out of rock. And there in the mud, Kai jumped into my arms and I held him until my arms failed me. It wasn’t glamourous. It was hard. And I cried. Ugly cried. Heaving tears and imprinting this memory into my brain, I was angry with myself that I couldn’t hold him up for a long time. I was scared that we didn’t get the shot that I had envisioned. This moment was literally done within a minutes time. ?

What you see is a beautiful moment. But it was a rough moment. You don’t see the mud. You don’t see the hurting shoulders. You don’t see the part where I put all my weight onto my husband crying on the side of the road afterward.

But what we ended with is an image of such beauty I can’t even describe my happiness at documenting this time.
I Ka P? Me Ke Ao
The night and the day
The dark and the light

Moments like this are a #passionproject of mine – Showing the dark. Showing the light. Processing emotion.
If you’ve read this far, thank you! I hope I made you FEEL something today.