On a hot July day in the summer of ’99, a young girl sat perched atop her trampoline. Her blonde hair shimmered like gold beneath the sunlight as her sparkling blue eyes gazed at the trailer. Grey paint peeled from the mobile home, but the little girl couldn’t have cared less. To her, it was home.

As the door creaked open, a man with a beautiful smile stepped out. His big brown eyes crinkled at the corners with years of laughter as he took a drag from his cigarette. His bright orange button-down shirt blazed like the sun itself, while wisps of brown hair curled behind his ears beneath a well-worn NASCAR cap. His blue jeans, faded and frayed at the knees, spoke of hard work and long days.

She felt a rush of joy, her heart swelling as she leapt from the trampoline. “Daddy!” she cried, her voice ringing through the air like a sweet Southern bell. Her bare feet pounded against the grass as she ran to him, her small arms wrapping tightly around his legs. With a deep, hearty laugh and strong arms, he lifted her up and kissed both her cheeks before tossing her over his shoulder. She giggled, tugging playfully on his dark brown curls.

But then, as if in a dream, she blinked. The scene before her shimmered and dissolved before fading away right before her eyes. She was suddenly alone in the yard. The trailer still stood—silent and unchanged—and the sun still blazed. Just like it did in the summer of ’99. But she was no longer a child. She was a woman now. The trampoline had vanished, and her daddy was gone.

As his laughter faded into the realm of memory, a deep longing burned inside her chest. Oh, how she longed to be small again. To feel his warmth just one more time. A tear slid down her cheek, but a wistful smile tugged at her lips as she thought of her childhood and her daddy’s love. For even in a world where blue jeans could fade and gray paint could peel, she knew in her heart that memories, like love, would last forever.