It was my turn to move away from home. It was time for me, like they say, to go behind my dreams. And I was sure. My entire world was sure that my father would not deal with it well. I knew he wouldn’t wave goodbye without shedding some tears - joyous and anxious. (Somewhere I was proud of it. Proud of being his girl with whom he cannot stay.) And finally that day arrived for me to fly out and as I walked away, I noticed something was different. He didn’t shed tears and his look told me a thousand things that I couldn’t then perceive. Everyone around including my mother said he had prepared himself well for this change and was strong. But somewhere behind my mind that image remained. Tiny details but the most important things seemed different whenever I went home. He didn’t play his usual doze of morning music which was like an energizer to wake up for us all our life. There were not many evenings where movies were discussed to tiny details. Those evening walks where keeping up w...