Sweet 16

Dear A#1,

You know who you are. There have been days of your life that I've anticipated and dreaded, like the first day of school or first time I took you for a vaccination. Today, October 25, 2007, is one of them. I want to reach out and squish down on your teenage head, just like I used to do when you were a toddler saying, "Stop growing so fast!"

"No way, Jose!" you'd say. Of course you pronounced it "Hooozay."

Your eyes have always danced, a rare and brilliant blue beneath that canopy of curls. The joy for life that your eyes display makes me enjoy my own life, too. Your mouth has always smiled, a disarming yet pouty smile that destroys distance and gives us all energy. Your life has always been a miracle and a gift for which I thank God daily, and you have helped me to grow up and be a man in a thousand little ways you'll never know or understand.

At the same time I recognize that you are not uniquely mine to possess. No human can truly be "owned" and I wouldn't want that for you anyway. Your irrepressible spirit is not meant for confined spaces, you were meant to fly free.

I have held you tightly, sometimes too tightly, but please forgive my reticence at letting go too quickly. I know a thing or two about this world, and that is why I continue to squeeze, sometimes tighter than you'd like. If I seem overprotective or too restrictive, it's only because I want to delight in you for many moons yet to pass.

According to house rules, today marks the day you became old enough to date a boy, drive a car, and stake out more territory of independence. But remember, you're never too old for correction or discipline, you're never too strong to need your family, and you're never so bad that you can't come home. House rules aside, you will always be my little girl.

Promise me we'll never make it to that hundred and first "Dalmation kiss?"

With love,
Daddy-o