A firm and loving grip
I love that there are a few things that transcend cultural boundaries. When I was a lot younger, my Dad would grab my arm or reach across to hold me in place if he felt that I might come to some harm. At the time, I’m sure I didn’t appreciate it for what it is. Now that I’m thousands of kilometers away from him and thirty years on from those experiences, I feel the love that was the motivation for his firm grip. I feel it because I do the same with my son and daughter.
Thanks Dad, for reaching out to hold me in place, to keep me from harm.