Day 299: Happy 18th; An Adult Is Born

 Today is my daughter’s birthday. What an eventful, wonderful, supercharged 18 years it has been, too. But as of today, I have two children that are 18 years old or older, and that’s a strange reality for me—something that’s hard to grasp. Seems like it was only yesterday that I was helping them get dressed for school. Tying their shoes. Cutting their meat. Pouring their milk and then cleaning it up when they spilt it. Seems like it was yesterday we piled in that old Gold van on the way to school, wrapped in blankets because the heater didn’t work. Seems like yesterday we were heading to the park, climbing the ladder, swinging high, and stopping at the gas station to get some candy on the way home. Seems like yesterday we were building tents in the basement for all-night movie marathons. Like yesterday when were rolling around on the floor wrestling and playing hide-n-seek. Snuggling on the couch watching cartoons. Seems like it wasn’t that long ago that my kids were coming home from grade school, getting their afternoon snack, and heading out the door with seemingly everything OK in their worlds. Then junior high crept in, followed by high school, and here we are.

Life passes at the same rate for everyone. But there are those days, like this one, that deserve a little extra contemplating to be done, that require a little more remembrance to be performed. On these days, life seems to travel at a pace that’s unfair and impossible to keep up with. I’d like to have some of those 18 years back again. I’d like to change a few things. Rearrange a few things. Take a left instead of right. I’d like to offer better advice than I did on a few occasions. I’d like a chance to ease some of the burdens I could have. Reduce the stress and tension I didn’t know existed then but do now. I’d like to go back and open more doors. Knock down a few more walls. Help blaze some paths. I’d like to go back and listen more often and more intently. See more. Learn more. I’d like the gift of hindsight, knowing that what I considered to be pressing matters back really weren’t. I’d like to have given my kids less possessions and more laughs. But that’s not possible.

As strange as it seems to have kids of “legal age,” I don’t think I’ll ever think in that way. I guess I’ve considered them to be grown up for some time now, whether I always liked that or not. Usually, I try not to put too much emphasis on age. It doesn’t take too long, for example, to size someone up and know if he or she is mature and world-wise. You don’t need to spend months with someone to know if he or she is introspective, if she’s enlightened and rich with creativity. Conversely, you don’t need eons to figure out if someone is pessimistic, shortsighted, narrow-minded, lacking insight and depth. You just know. Generally, I don’t try to equate those traits to someone’s age, although there’s no denying that acquiring many of those characteristics does tend to take weathering some years and overcoming a significant obstacle or two. I can testify that my children, like a lot of kids today, have overcome their share, probably before they should have had to. Such is today’s society.

As grown as they are and as grown as they consider themselves to be, I still see children, and not in a sense that they aren’t capable, aren’t wily, aren’t wise and durable. I see children because in some ways, I want to. In other ways, I see children because in many respects I’ll always feel the need to provide and counsel and guide, even if those are things that aren’t wanted or asked for as much as once upon a time.

All that said, having had the privilege and gift to be able to watch someone grow over 18 years, and having had the privilege and gift of having had something to do with that growth, are two life-altering, soul-building experiences that can’t be understated. This is glorious day. It’s an achievement. It’s a testament. I don’t know if every parent who has ever had a child turn 18 has felt the same, but I’ll cherish this day for what has happened before it and what will happen from here on out. And I’ll cherish the reality that 18 years from now, nothing will have altered the way I feel today. If anything, the gratitude I have for being a parent will have only further expanded.