Page 78 of Eternally London

Somewhere along this journey, I’ve realized that a flawed heart is a fallacy. Regardless of the situations surrounding us, our hearts keep beating—through pain and pleasure, heartache and joy. It beats, keeping us living and allowing us to love. In reality, the heart is quite perfect. It’s powerful, and somehow, I know that, even when it ceases to beat, the love that it carries within will continue to exist. I feel it when I’m here the most. There’s so much love for Loïc and my children from people I’ve never met. It’s that same love that empowered Loïc to make it through almost impossible situations throughout his life. The love that lives within our hearts is eternal, and there’s nothing flawed about that.

I hear Annie shriek, and I look toward the sound to see her falling into the water with a huge splash. Loïc must have just thrown her in, which she loves. Arbor is beside Loïc, raising his arms to be next. Another favorite about this place is the sounds—splashing waves, laughter, and giggles. There’s really nothing better.

I set the cooler under our cabana and take a seat in the lounge chair. This is where I can be found on our beach days—in the shade, relaxing. Sometimes, I read, and often, I simply watch my greatest blessings having fun, which is the best view of all.

Loïc is in his element. If there’s sand, sweat, sun, water, or physical activity involved, he’s all in. After all of these years, his affection toward all things nature hasn’t diminished, and now, he’s passing that love onto our children.

“Higher, Dad!” Arbor yells as Loïc tosses him into a wave.

Annie is at Loïc’s side, ready for another turn, and I love seeing them together. It still fascinates me to see how much Annie looks like Loïc.

Our eight-year-old twins are our little replicas. Annie is the female image of Loïc, and Arbor is the little male version of me—in looks alone. They both have their father’s outdoorsy, adventurous spirit.

My heart swells with adoration every time I look at my babies—all three of them. Lindi will always be such a miracle and blessing to me. She changed my world in ways that I could never even articulate. She made me a mother.

She showed me what unconditional love is—the best love, the kind a parent has for a child. There’s nothing like it. Parental love is like living my life with my heart beating on the outside of my chest—exposed, vulnerable, fearful of all the things that could go wrong. Yet, at the same time, it’s as if it beats on the outside of my chest because there couldn’t possibly be enough space to hold it within. There’s such an immensity of love coursing through my heart with every beat that it’s impossible to contain.

The twins are miracles as well. They were the result of our fourth and final attempt at in vitro, our last endeavor to try to have biological children. And it couldn’t have turned out more perfect. It’s as if the doctors took all the best parts of me and Loïc, mixed them together, and put them in my belly, giving us two flawless little humans.

The two years following Lindi’s second birthday were spent, in part, trying to have another child. But it wasn’t anything like the pre-Lindi time, and I had known it wouldn’t be. Lindi is such a bright light in my life, so there wasn’t a chance that the darkness could get through. The difference between those two years and the attempts prior to Lindi were that, though we were trying to conceive, we still lived. We laughed. We smiled. We cheered on every little milestone Lindi had achieved. We woke up each day, so happy for the wonderful little family we had. The three years we had with just Lindi contained some of the best moments in our life.

Then, the twins came, and whole new sections of my heart opened up, allowing me to experience more love than I knew possible. And, just as Lindi is, Arbor and Annie are perfect. I’d uttered the wordperfectionmany times in my life, but it wasn’t until I met my children that I truly understood what that word meant.

It’s hard to believe that it all started with a spoiled girl, a moody boy, and a car wash, and somehow, we’ve arrived to this place where we get to live such an amazing life.

“Come on, Mom!” Annie calls from the sea.

Loïc holds Arbor on his shoulders, and I know Annie needs me as a partner for another round of chicken fighting.

I head toward the sea, a huge smile on my face. “Come on, you two,” I say to Sebastian and Lindi as I pass them. “You can fight the winner.”

“Yes!” Lindi says, following me.

There’s nothing my family loves more than some epic competition.

“You ready to go down, Mom?” Arbor teases when I reach them.

“No, you’re going down. Girls rule, and boys drool!” Annie shouts back.

I slip under the water, allowing Annie to climb onto my shoulders, and then I stand, wiping the salt water from my face.

“Who’s your money on, Lin?” Loïc asks Lindi.

“Ann and Mom, for sure,” Lindi replies with a smirk.

“Girl power,” Annie cheers as she fist-bumps Lindi.

“No way. Dad is way stronger than Mom. Mom’s weak,” Arbor says.

“Hey!” I protest.

“Sorry, Mom…but it’s true,” Arbor says.

“It kind of is, babe.” Loïc laughs.

I shake my head with a mock glare of annoyance. “We’re going to show them. Aren’t we, girls?”

Sebastian counts down, and the fight starts. I stand in front of Loïc, holding Annie’s legs against my chest, as she and Arbor wrestle atop us.

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