And maybe, that’s the best thing about superheroes. They never come with perfection or even prestige. Somehow, during breakdowns, midnight rushes with a glimpse of coffee and tears, shoulder pats and stern looks every time the curfew gets done, and when Mama couldn’t take the ten-minute drive to a nearby grocer, their strong personality comes out even if they don’t want — but they need to. Because that’s what defines them.
And when every time we feel timid and lose ourselves in the process, they will come not with capes nor jumpsuits but wings that will hold us nevertheless how weak we can be.
And I think, that’s the best thing about superheroes.
The moment they gave us love, I knew it was more than just a superpower we could forever hold on to. The moment they helped us smile and showered us with laughter, I knew it would never fade ever again.
And the moment they lifted our wings, even if it would mean losing their own flight — I knew that time I wasn’t alone anymore.
That’s the best thing about superheroes.
Perhaps, Papa, that’s the best thing about you.