This morning, I looked out my kitchen window. Grinning at me was my father's fishing boat next to the remains of my former favorite place. I once held luncheons with queens in this pillar of innocence. I once tried to reach the sky with the help of a swing and friends back in a time when I did not consider its impossibility.
My childhood playhouse is no more. There is a fishing boat in its place. It may not seem like much, but this sight symbolizes everything. My dad needs room to put more boats in the backyard, while his house and family are falling apart.
I laughed a manic and defeated laugh because I knew that I probably would not be the last woman to try to change my dad and fail miserably during his lifetime.
Also, it is time for me to grow up.