So, now I’m the mother of a nineteen-year-old. Good grief, how did that happen? I just mean that as a statement of astonishment at how quickly time has passed, by the way, not an “I feel so old” wail. I don’t feel any older than when she was nine, really. No older even than when she was nineteen months, if I want to stretch the truth ever so slightly. Shh, I didn’t give you permission to remove me from my delusional state, so just keep those reality check thoughts to yourself. 🙂
I’ve been warned not to embarrass her with excessive amounts of maternal gushing on here, so I’ll restrain myself. I’ll simply say that I’m immensely proud of the young woman she has become. She’s not who I imagined she would be when I first set eyes on her and the maternal dreaming began. Rather, she’s so much more. We only have our own points of reference to call upon when we become parents, and my points of reference were far too narrow in scope. I’ve taught her all that I know over the years but, in return, she has expanded my horizons more than I ever thought possible. No doubt the expansion will continue in years to come, and I’m very glad of it.
Those ever expanding mental horizons are why there aren’t any “I feel so old” wails now. The body might have gained a few creaks over the past nineteen years, but the mind has been continuously challenged by and opened to new ideas. That’s what keeps us all young.
Thank you, Stephanie.