My dad was more then just a dad to me. He was my best friend and the only person I truly trusted. I grew up with my dad after my parents got divorced when I was three. I spent every second of the day with my dad. My sisters and I would make up funny dances with him and do them all around our house. My dad was as important to me as the sun to its planets. Without him, life would just not be the same.
It was Sunday morning and I was laying comfortably on my bed under my pink Barbie blanket. I could already smell the sweet aroma of our usual Sunday morning breakfast. My mouth began to water as the image of eggs with onion and tomato, toast, hot chocolate, bread and French toast came to my mind. I was too lazy to actually get up from my bed, so I continued to lay there enjoying the fragrance of the amazing meal. My mouth watering images soon got interrupted by someone pulling on my blanket. When I turned to see who it was, I saw my sister’s face with a smile bigger than a kid on Christmas day. I knew she had something she wanted to tell me but I just pretended to go back to sleep. Finally after my sister had turned my bed into an earthquake I began to sit up. The moment I looked at her she said, “Were going to America!” A rush of mixed emotions filled my body. I was excited to go on a trip, confused on why we were going, and happy to see my mom. Mostly though I was scared. Scared to leave my family, scared to go to a new country, and scared to leave my best friend, my dad. We had been talking about going to America to visit my mom for the summer, but it never actually occurred to me that it would happen. It was more of a fantasy of mine but when it came true, it became a nightmare. What was I going to do without my dad? I knew if my sisters and I went, I would not be seeing him for a very long time.
I slowly dragged my body into the kitchen where my dad was chopping onions and flipping pans around. My face looked like a melted candle. My dad immediately could tell something was wrong. Without even saying a word to me he wrapped his gentle arms around me. Tears trickled down my face, I prayed for him to never let go. I felt safe, like nothing could go wrong if he was with me. He knew exactly what was wrong and began to assure me that everything would be fine. I cried in his arms for hours and begged him to let me stay with him.
Later that night my dad asked me to go on a walk with him. I had not left my room ever since I had heard the news that morning. I reluctantly agreed and slipped on my light up Barbie sneakers. The night was cold and the streets seemed empty for the first time. I felt comforted by the firm grip my dad had on my hand. He looked over at me and told me to look at the sky. All I saw was a big, bright, ball lighting up the night. My dad pointed to the moon and said, “That moon right there is ours; whenever you look at it, wherever you are, I’ll be looking at the same moon. I’ll always be with you.” We kept walking and by the time we got back home I had gained the strength to face the trip to America.
The time finally came and I was in Ameica with my mom. There were many nights when I wanted to be with my dad and go back to Colombia. The only thing that got me through the first few weeks of the trip was the one thing my dad and I shared, the moon. I would sneak out of my bed some nights just to look at the moon. I would picture my dad sitting on his balcony looking at the same moon as me. It made me feel closer to him and reassured me that everything was going to be okay. Even now when I miss my dad, I look out the window and feel happiness knowing he is under the same moon.