Every time my family and I went to the sea, it was like an adventure. We would get up very early, my dad would pack the car, my mom would get out sandwiches, and I couldn't fall asleep with joy.
I remember that wind in the window, my favorite song on the speakers, and my dad's jokes, which made my mom laugh, and I thought: this is what happiness is.
The sea air was like another world, where there was no homework, quarrels, or worries.
I loved collecting shells, running in a swimsuit with sand in my hair.
Now our trips have changed. But the memory hasn't.
And every time I smell iodine in the air, I smile.
Because in my heart, that little summer we had together still lives.