Our first date was at a little Starbucks on a rainy afternoon. Two lattes, one table by the window, and hours that felt like minutes. Now one breath of Fresh Brewed Coffee and I'm back in that chair, laughing.

Every summer we packed the car and drove to the coast. Sunscreen on our shoulders, salt in our hair, the kids racing the waves until sunset. Ocean and Spring Break bring back the whole week in a single breath.

Saturday mornings meant a walk in the woods with Dad, the trail soft under our boots and the air cool and green. One breath of Sequoia and I'm walking beside him again.

The lights went down, the music started, and there she was, our granddaughter, on her toes in pink satin. One breath of Pixie Dust and I'm in the third row again, holding my breath.