One of the hardest moment for my dad would be when he realized the moment he needed to free me from his grasp.
No longer was I the little child who would ask him silly questions about the earth and the universe.
Nor the little child who would crawl onto his bed and be found sleeping next to in the morning.
Not the girl who would clutch his shirt and stick by him whenever and wherever we went together.
The child who would never question him and believe that he would always no matter what, be right and the best.
Even though I am no longer under his wings, I will wait patiently for him to be ready to loosen his grasp, and let me go. Someday when he’s ready to realize that I will fly back to him anyway.
But in all honesty, I wonder if he ever can.