Some birthdays mean more than others. It's kind of silly, when you think about it. But, it's a custom and humans embrace customs. Today our daughter had one of those "big birthdays." She turned sixteen.
There was a party last night for friends. Today was for us. And because it was for us, I did a little reminiscing by looking at my journal from the day sixteen years ago and by looking at old photos. What is it about looking at photos? It so vividly reminds us how we felt; it makes us recall the memories. We're transported back to those times.
I remember bringing her home. We were living in my mom's basement apartment--only two bedrooms. The boys had one bedroom and we had the other. We put up the crib in our room and that's how we lived for three years. Of course, she didn't care--she just looked at us with those beautiful eyes and smiled, mostly. I remember singing her to sleep, my song of choice, When Somebody Loved Me, from Toy Story 2. I still adore that song. Maybe that's why she loves to sing.
A family is a team. To be successful we all have parts to play, responsibilities to shoulder. Our daughter has always played her part as the light, that special spirit that can shine so bright you have to sometimes shield your eyes. Happy birthday, you wonderful daughter of ours!
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