Last update: June 16, 2017
She was born yesterday and today, in a few hours, she will start university. Yesterday they told me that I was going to be a father, shortly after he was crawling and a few minutes ago he took his first driving school lesson. Yesterday he looked at us as one who looks at the gods and today as someone who looks at people of whom he knows every flaw, in depth. Between these two moments only one night passed, a night in which I was left thinking, dazed, while I watched her grow up ...
Growing up in moments, because in others I had to go out to go to work. In others, his brothers, mine, my friends or my parents needed me; his mother, and I, I too have needed me at times. I came home late or I couldn't think of any stories. Like this, she has come out of the age of invented stories to begin to experience firsthand how reality can be infinitely more cruel, and at the same time enchanting.
Yesterday I had placed a myriad of hopes in her. Hopes that were all mine and about which she had said nothing, except pointing to the bottle when she was thirsty or filling her mouth with what happened to her when she was hungry. Today my hopes are still mine, but the truth is that she built hers and I had to accept it. It's a process that cost me all night.
