Happy Birthday To You!
My daughter turned twenty-one today. I feel the official weight of fatherhood lifted from my tired shoulders. She can fly on her own now and I am limited to the guilt I already have for any bad judgments or missteps I made in raising her. From now on she is on her own, just like she thought she was when she was twelve.
I am fifty-three as of this writing and my body feels it, though my spirit is truly much younger. My brain gives commands and my body responds with creaking and sluggish resistance. A trip to the bathroom, which was a rare occasion in my younger years, is now more frequent, and when sitting down that toilet seat seems a little lower every time. Sore knees, loose teeth, forgetting what's-his-name's name... it's all a part of getting old.
When I turned twenty-one, without thinking, I commented to my mother, who was forty-one at the time, "My God Mom, I'm twenty-one! I feel soo old!" Well, my Mom rarely let such a fat pitch get past the plate. She knocked it out of the park with, "Twenty-one! Imagine how I feel having a son who is twenty-one!" Touché! Or should I say, Holy Cow!
Good luck my darling and Happy Birthday! I hope when you have a twenty-one year old kid you remember the good old days!
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