A Daddy's heart isn’t made for days like this.
I’m letting you go today, like we planned, like we wanted, like we hoped for so many years ago when I first found out you were coming into my life.
And the past few months, as I’ve watched you pack your bags and make plans with your new friends and countdown the time until this day was finally here, so many memories have rushed back that I can see and feel so clearly.
Like how your fingers wrapped perfectly around my pinky as we crossed the street or walked to the park; like the many nights we would sit by the window waiting for Dad to come home so you could pretend to drive his car (and stick all the quarters in his CD player). . Like how I would sit in the doorway of your room and lay beside you in bed and read to you from your favorite story books. Like all the days I spent listening to you sing at the top of your lungs while you played games with your friends and with me.
I remember how saying goodnight to you changed from cuddling in bed and not being able to leave for hours, to tucking you in and leaving the lights on, to a quick peck on the cheek and a “goodnight, Daddy,” to having to crack your door open and peek in to make sure your little pink game box was off and you were just safe at home. It’s the strangest thing to leave you today and wish so much that you won’t ever live with me again, that you’ll only be a visitor — because that will mean that your dreams are coming true. I’ve loved you before you were ever here on Earth, I’ll love you for so much longer because forever you have been a part of me ….. forever you will be a part of me. I miss you so......