Danced Across My Face

When I was a little girl, my father would wake up around 4 am to go to work. My mother would wake at the same time to see him away, and begin her day. Before leaving every dawn, my dad would pick me up, as I lay sleeping, and move me to their bed. Their bed was adjusted right next to their window in such a way that it allowed for the most soothing breeze to come through and dance across my face. It was so delicate, and managed to smell of rain each day. These couple of hours that I lay there in my parents' bed nuzzled before the morning routine fulfilled me in such a way that I can only begin to describe. I felt safe, comfortable, and ever so happy. I was my daddy's girl, and he loved me. He would go out of his way to carry me to his room every dawn because he knew that I loved it. I can never have that moment again. Every time a tender breeze caresses my face, I long for that moment, but it is never the same. We grow up, and all we have left is what was and what is. But one must remember that today will become a tomorrow. And we will wish too, that today could come back.