Dear Isabelle When I was about your age, my uncle, Edgar travelled to Antarctica Every night, I lay awake, trying to imagine his adventures I couldn't wait for him to come home and when he finally returned He came over for dinner and I grilled him with his questions But he went all quiet I couldn't get anything out of him Six months at the end of the Earth And all I can say was how much I miss grandma's pies Now I know why Living on this island, word seem completely inadequate to the task at hand How would I tell you about the color of the sky? What are the words for an ocean that is not blue But 5000 different hues every time I blink? How could I describe a beauty that is overwhelming And terrifying all at the same time? My darling daughter I'm sorry I'm missing you growing up If I ever find my way home I promise I will find the words to tell you all my stories, somehow Love, your mother