Just yesterday, I was 17. Today, my daughter celebrated her 17th birthday. Where did the time go?
I was always aware that time was passing, but I never really felt old until the last couple of weeks. The realization that my daughter was soon going to be 17, her last year before “adulthood” was the biggest factor. Also, people I knew from high school either found me or I found them and the tossing around of numbers like 16 years, 20 years since we’d seen each other… wow.
I remember tons of stories I could tell right now that would embarrass my daughter to no end, but I’ll be nice. I’ll save that post until she turns 18 and can be prosecuted as an adult for killing me in my sleep. I will say that these last 17 years have been rewarding, frustrating, awe-inspiring, confusing, panicking, crazy, insane, fun, and completely unbelievable. When this all began with that crying little bundle of joy, I never imagined the range of emotions and experiences this tiny little being would expose me to.
Yes, Mother. Now I understand all those things you told me I wouldn’t understand until I was a parent.
And no, Daughter. You cannot kill me for revealing to the world that you were once a little bundle of joy. A crying little bundle of joy at that.
So, I feel old and that’s ok. I wouldn’t go back in time for anything. I love my memories and I want to keep them.
Happy Birthday, Kiddo. Now stop growing up for a few more years, ok? Just kidding!