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.