My mother Wendaly tells me the story of the trip to the hospital in Dude's iced over '91 Range Rover at 3 in the morning, the coldest she has ever felt in her life.
Dude says mom's screams while giving labor brought a chill to his bones as he stood frozen outside the delivery room. Dad had to Uber in from the airport, Dude was noticeably shaken and couldn't drive.
Dad missed all the screaming but was there to give me some much needed Florida warmth. His job had just transferred him to Orlando and got on the first plane back when Dude called him at 3 in the morning to tell him I was knocking on the door.
At 11:36am, weighing in at 8lbs, 9.3ozs, all 19 and 1/4 inches of me entered this world, hello.
One year old, living in Orlando.
This beautiful picture of my mom Wendaly, my handsome brother Jayden, and yours truly Gia, was taken by Dude, who made the trip from Charlotte to be with us for Christmas.
We lived in a suburb called Altamonte Springs, visited Disney and Universal as a small tot. The warmer weather was definitely a plus, I remember mom taking us across the street to Cranes Roost Park for walks.
Dad transferred to Miami, mom and him wanted to be closer to family, bye Mickey.
10 years old now, living in Miami.
Here I am at Shipwrecks in Key Largo celebrating my birthday with my greying dad Michael, my brother Jayden, my new sister Journie, my aunt Jessie, uncle Bert, and my grandparents Awee and Dude. Our resident historian, Grandpa Razzi, took the pic.
Life is good in Paradise, with family to share it with.