As I prepare to share this part of my journey, I want to first give thanks to God for the opportunity to experience such a beautiful island.

St. Kitts, a small island in the Caribbean, is where my roots trace back to. It is the place my great-grandfather, Otto, and my Nana B. once called home before making their way to Brooklyn, New York.

I didn’t have the chance to meet my great-grandfather, but I carry his name and his legacy with me. My memories of Nana B., though, are vivid and full of love. I remember her accent, the way she spoke with warmth and presence. I remember her cooking, the feeling of being in her Brownstone, and most of all, the way she loved me.

This trip required a lot of preparation, both mentally and physically. I knew we would be doing a lot of exploring, so I wanted my body to be ready. But even more than that, I wanted to be mentally and emotionally prepared for whatever I might uncover about my family.

This trip was also deeply special for another reason. We were there to celebrate a milestone birthday for my husband, which made the experience even more meaningful. Two of his daughters joined us, and it was his very first time traveling out of the country. There was something powerful about all of us sharing that moment together.

We enjoyed incredible food, fed the monkeys, rode a boat to Nevis for dinner while watching the sunset, and stepped outside of our comfort zones riding ATVs for the first time. We even had an incredible tour guide who climbed a coconut tree, cut down fresh fruit, and let us drink coconut water right there in the jungle. We brought home pieces of the island through its currency, but more than anything, we brought back memories. We bonded in a way that made this trip unforgettable.

Before we arrived, my husband spent time researching, hoping to locate someone on the island who might still be connected to my family. He did find a few leads, but the people he spoke with no longer lived there.

Toward the end of our trip, we met a woman who was originally from the island. She asked about my last names, and when I told her “Cardin” and “Laplace,” she gently corrected my pronunciation of Laplace. That moment alone felt significant. She recognized the names and shared that the Laplace family was known to be fair-skinned and may have migrated from another island.

But the moment that truly stayed with me… the one that I will never forget… was when we found Cardin Avenue.

Standing there, seeing the Cardin home, a facility for the elderly, felt surreal. As we stood across the street near a Cardin Avenue sign, a man began calling out to me from a window. “Hey, hey, hey,” he kept saying until he finally came closer.

He looked at me and said, “You look like someone I know.”

It caught me off guard. We began talking, and he shared pieces of his life with me. There was something about that exchange that I can’t fully put into words. It felt familiar, almost like a thread connecting past and present.

In that moment, I felt everything. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to hold onto the feeling just a little longer.

I don’t believe I was lucky to experience that.

I believe I was blessed.

Blessed to stand on the same soil that my Nana B. and my great-grandfather, Otto, once lived on. Blessed to feel that connection in such an unexpected, beautiful way.

As we celebrated my husband’s milestone birthday, I couldn’t help but reflect on how meaningful this trip truly was.

It wasn’t just about traveling to a new place or marking another year of life. It was about connection. Connection to each other, as we laughed, explored, and created memories with his daughters. Connection to new experiences that brought us closer. And, unexpectedly, a deeper connection to my own roots.

In the same trip where we honored his life, I found pieces of mine.

Moments like this remind me that life is not just about where we’re going, but about understanding where we come from and who we’re becoming along the way.

This trip gave us all of that.

And for that, I am forever grateful.