As my sons Callum, then 19, and Jamie, 16, gazed out in awe at the stunning New York skyline from the top of the Empire State Building, I felt full of joy.
‘Mum, this is so brilliant,’ Jamie, or Jay as he was better known, grinned at me.
It was February 2020 and me and my husband Jem, then 44, had taken my two boys on a special trip to the Big Apple.
We really were having the trip of a lifetime.
‘Can we come back again one day?’ Jay asked me.
‘Of course,’ I laughed. ‘But you might not want your mum tagging along with you next time.’
Towering over me, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.