Dear Max Pax
I’m heading off to Cape Town this week sans you and I’m excited to be there and run Two Oceans, but I have this hollow sad feeling, like somehow I’m leaving an extension of my heart behind.
You might be asking why I’m not taking you, and my simplest answer is that logistically it’s easier to leave you here as both your dad and I are running on Saturday, and to uproot you, organise a babysitter and shlepp you back is outweighed by practicality.
I am sorry to leave you dude. I hate being apart from you but I’m going to make hay while the sun shines. I shall sleep, I shall catch up on three months’ worth of Vanity Fairs, I shall convert my first-chapter Kindle samples into books, I’ll blog, I’ll hopefully take charge of a TV remote for the first time in ages.
But I know I will see you everywhere – from the places we’ve explored in Cape Town together, to the trucks and cranes that provide you excitement and adrenaline each day.
I will bring you toys back, and an even bigger heart to enwrap you with, and be consumed by you.
Yours in maternal pining,
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