Confession of an Overprotective Dad

 When I was a kid in the 1980's, around 10 or 11 years old, I was constantly playing outside with my friends. We'd go to school, come home, have a snack, watch a cartoon or two, and then it was outside to play football, or baseball or hide and seek. Whatever it was, we were outside constantly hanging out with our buddies. Another constant was no parents. My mom and dad and even my grandparents trusted us to go out and play and make sure we were back by suppertime. We'd take our bikes, go down the road, maybe to the local elementary school, wherever it was and there was never a concern about something happening to us. Those moments are etched in my brain. We had such great memories as kids.Fast Forward 30 years and here I am, a Dad of an 11-year old girl. A dad who loves his daughter, who would do anything for his daughter, and who is WAY overprotective of his daughter.The other day, I was having a conversation with Sarah and she asked if she could take her bike to her friend Kailey's house to play. I told her no. My reasoning was simple. She's not ready to go out by herself to her friend's house yet. Mind you, Kailey literally lives the next street over from ours. Yes, I'm that Dad.So why won't I let her go over by herself? I was doing that sort of thing when I was 8 or 9 years old right?Part of it is probably just a father being protective of his only child. But there's something deeper. It's the struggle of letting go.As my daughter continues to grow up and get older, there's going to be a constant battle that will commence. On one side, a little girl who's growing, evolving, learning, and maturing into a young lady. On the other side, a Dad who loves his kid more than anything. A Dad who wants nothing but the absolute best for his kid. But also a Dad who is will forever struggle with letting go.I remember being a freshman in college and coming back home for the first time to visit the family. It had been about 6 weeks since I packed my bags and began that trek into the next stage of my education. The memory of that weekend though wasn't anything we did or who I saw, but it was a specific moment when I got ready to leave and head back to college that sits in my brain. I remember sitting in the car, pulling out of the driveway and looking at the front porch and seeing my mother. She was noticeably sobbing. At 19 years old, I just laughed. "My mom is a mess" I said. Typical response to a punk kid who thinks he knows it all. But looking back, I now completely understand my mother's reaction. Immediately at that moment, it hit my mother that her son, her first born, was now grown up and moved out.I think about what that moment will be like for me in a few years when Sarah goes off to college. When I have to say goodbye to my baby, my only child. When I have to let go. I'm struggling now just thinking about it. I can't imagine what I'll be like in 7 years.Dear Lord, please stop making time go by so fast.  [embed]https://twitter.com/JasonRomano/status/475805097365368832[/embed]