So the 50th birthday is supposed to make you feel old in some ways, yes? It does that for most of us at least a little, I think. At age 50, you look around at your friends and see how old they’re getting and you look at your parents if they’re still with you, and you’re forcibly reminded of your own mortality. You’re getting older.
But you know what’s worse? Having your youngest child experience the birthday that makes them a legal adult, and that’s today.
Yeah, now I feel old.
Today, I’m letting my mind roll back over all those moments, good and bad. First words, first teeth, first steps, first songs, first fights, first school dance, first driving lesson, trips to the beach, vacations, birthdays, holidays, pets, and every first, second, or most recent item or event in between.
Eighteen years ago today in a couple of hours, I held my youngest child in my arms for the first time. I’m still allowed a hug now and then, but it’s really cool to see the woman she’s become and I know she’s just getting started.
So, yeah, her turning 18 makes me feel old, but she’s got so much ahead of her yet that I feel the wonder of the future more.
Happy birthday, sweet. It’s a bright road ahead.by
Holy crap, my youngest child is old enough to drive.
She elected not to go write the test today, already having enough on her plate, but could have. Maybe on the weekend.
But my youngest child is old enough to drive. It’s crystal in my memory holding her for the first time, her holding my finger for the first time, the sheer amount of hair (with blonde highlights) she was born with, bringing her home from the hospital, and on.
It’s not so easy for me to wrap my head around the idea that it’s been sixteen years since that day she finally came into our lives. It should be easy. I’ve watched her pass from infant to toddler to child to teenager and now making the transition into wonderful young woman.
But she is my youngest child, so it’s not easy. Why would it be?
Hold onto the time while it lasts.
Be well, everyone.by