Carys Comma

My Daughter,

I don't have much, but what I do have often seems to hold a death grip on my throat. I am stifled by the thought of losing the things I have, and I am frightened by the thought that all my life has amounted to the collection of that which burns.

Never, my girl, never allow the shackles of posessions to be clamped around your wings. Never adhere to the rules of life dictated by the joyless and the land locked.

Instead, be free. Give your whole self to the task of finding your whole self. Then, you may grow old beyond the cold grip of regret.

Your Dad
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