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  • At 33 years old, some small part of me still mourns a childhood, freedom and innocence that hindsight tries to convince me that i once had.

    Now my eldest daughter, once quick to listen to and believe in my stories, asks me for a simple yes or no.

    Sometimes when the cold and the night and reluctant no's comes all at once, i can literally see her walking away.

    And this new mourning and this new letting go has really just begun.
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