little bitty girl

Whenever I think of swings, I think of my father. He's the parent that would let me always take risks. My mum usually always lets me go so far, but with him he would always push me as high as I wanted.

"Swing higher!" I often demand and he would do it only if I promised to hold on.

"Can I jump off?" I would ask, not ever content with the boundaries given to me.

"Only if you let me catch you," he would reply. Then I would jump and give my mother a mini heart attack.

It was when I had decided to go to school for fashion that he was not fine with the risk I was taking. He wanted me to do anything but something in the arts. I didn't understand then, that for him, it was an avenue which he had no knowledge of and he was afraid.

Afraid that I would never make any money. Afraid that there were no jobs out there. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid that I would fall and he couldn't be there to catch me. In his world, there should never be an instant where any of his children should fall and learn to get up on our own. He couldn't understand that we needed to go through this, to become the adults he raised us to be.

It was not until this year when I decided to take yet another leap of faith with my career, when he finally understood. That he had raised me to not take unwarranted risks; that it was ok to fall. That he had to let me go on my own journey in life. And with this understanding, we've also been able to rebuild a past relationship. Sure, it's not always perfect. We're both still as stubborn as donkeys, but we talk now. About everything. Life's too short to leave things unsaid.

I still think of swings when I think of my dad but it's just a different thing now.

"I'm going to go higher. I am going to jump."

"That's fine. And if you do fall, I will be here to comfort you."

Happy Birthday, Papa.