Something old, something new
I’m looking myself in the mirror for the millionth time, adjusting the veil, flattening the skirt, and trying to decide whether I should let my hair fall over the tattoo on the left shoulder or not. The little blue dolphin was a token of the time I had taken my grandma for her first dive, just like the kite on my ankle reminded me of when we went kite-surfing, and the shell we tattooed on the wrist after finishing the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Always together, we would both get tattoos after our adventures. But here I am, ready to embark on one of the most extraordinary adventures ever, and she is no longer with me, helping me overcome the paralyzing fear that takes over my body whenever I face the unknown. Thankfully, she left me something to keep me going, a treasure so powerful that it can push you through any circumstance. A feather. But not any feather, a long, soft red-and-blue macaw feather. My something old. And something borrowed, something blue, and something new.
