So I would sit in his lap. And we would swing so high. High above so that I could almost touch the tree brach that grew infront of the swingset. I felt like I could touch the clouds. Secure and safe we'd go higher and higher. The wind would kiss my face, and blow through my hair. Looking up through the trees straight to the sky as we'd bend back together. But you can only go so high on a swing, and as we'd slow down coming back to the ground touching our feet to the gravel.
What I wouldn't give to be a kid for just a little while..
Still so much like life in a way that no matter how high we get in life we always have to come back down to the ground, to reality, and see things at a normal level while still looking up.
Miss you dad. ♥