On our 18 year old. . .

My child is an adult. . . I know this has happened to hundreds of millions of people before, but as I sat on the stairs looking at baby photos on her birthday, I found tears slowly rolling down my cheeks.

She’s ready. That’s the amazing part. She is passionate and thoughtful, wise and discerning. She is teaching 2 classes this year as a senior in high school for Model UN.  She has finished her college applications and found scholarships without our help. She has built deep friendships that support her but do not define her. She has wrestled with her faith and come out with a deep knowledge that she is Loved.  She sees the world as big and diverse, but intimate and hopeful. She loves puzzles and dilemmas and delights in thinking through their solutions.  She cares deeply about making the world around her and approaches it with meticulous integrity. And when she gets excited about something it is difficult to match her enthusiasm.

As 9 of her best friends crowded around our dinner table for Indian food and talked about random events of the day and called her Ms. Shirk, we took it all in. . .another milestone celebrated, another moment to tuck away.  A glimpse of our daughter – still ours but in a world of her own. . . 

I am so grateful that I get to be her mom and watch how the next years unfold.