"It's time, my little one": after peeling the fruit every morning his father explains how to do it on the last day of high school

A week ago Meg Sullivan, an 18-year-old girl from Tacoma, in Washington, shared a tweet in which she photographed a bag with her breakfast: two oranges and a note his father had left him. What I did not expect is that these two photos and the few words that fit in a tweet would have such importance, and today it has more than 497 thousand likes and more than 110 thousand retweets.

And why so much stir? Because he shared a really momentous moment in the life of a daughter, in the life of a father, and in their relationship. That instant in which they both realize that dad won't be there anymore, not even for everyday life, how to prepare fruit for breakfast every morning.

"It's time, my little one"

Apparently, his father had prepared breakfast for him every day since he went to kindergarten. And the days he put oranges, he peeled them so she didn't have to. It is true that there is always a time when a father says "Maybe he is able to peel them", and he puts them whole, but in the case of Meg and his father, that moment never came. He always left them ready so he could eat them without wasting time peeling them.

So, until the last day of high school arrived. The last day before going to college. As we read in Today, his father thought it was a good time to do something different and send him the message that now it was she who had to do things for herself. Of course, Meg is very capable of peeling his own oranges, and obviously very capable of doing many things without help, but his father, Tom, had always been there to simplify some everyday things, such as breakfast.

At first he considered the possibility of putting a note with money inside. Something like "You're older, you can buy your own breakfast," but he soon dismissed the idea when he remembered the oranges. Next to them I could add a note in a humorous tone (the one you see in the photo) explaining what needs to be done to peel an orange. That way she would realize that she had to take that step, and at the same time she would feel that her father would still prepare her breakfast if possible.

Next to the instructions, a phrase confirms that it is time for her to do it and the drawing of a crying face; a smiley emoticon that says a lot: "I will miss you", "I wish I could go with you to college, but now it's your turn", "Grow up, little one ..." I don't know, everyone will draw your own conclusions.

Meg, on the other hand, explains that he simply thought it was a funny gesture from his father, but that after taking the photos he stayed thoughtful for a moment looking at the detail and everything he represented, and that was when he felt the same sadness for that "obligation "from his father who could no longer carry on. She will miss the moment of affection of the one who prepares your lunch thinking about you, and he will miss preparing something thinking about his daughter.

The two lose, but it's life law. There comes a time when the house door opens and the children fly away. That moment in which you only have the confidence to know that you have done things well, or at least in the best way you have been able and known, and the pain of not being able to hold them a little more.