For Amelia on her 18th birthday
Dear Amelia,
It’s hard to imagine that you’re already 18. Where has the time gone?
Why, it seems as if it only was just yesterday that Mom and I learned you were on the way. We found out just before our vacation to Virginia Beach, and tried to keep it quiet until we returned. But, when we visited Aunt Connie your Mom told her, and she told her mom, Granny Myrtle. And so it went. Mom slept almost all the time while we were on the road, and an upset stomach had several waitresses at a restaurant where we stopped worried something was wrong with her food until she explained she was expecting. The ladies understood perfectly then.
The day you were born, I was supposed to go into the delivery room with Mom. I had my scrubs and cap and face mask and little booties on, but there was a problem – nothing serious, thank goodness – and I had to wait outside the delivery room doors. Not long afterwards, you arrived. You impressed Dr. Kerr with your healthy lungs. I don’t know why, but I had decided you were going to be a girl beforehand, and I wanted a girl since we already had your big brother, Eli. I just knew would, and sure enough you were. A beautiful baby girl.
I got to go into the nursery with you while the nurses did what they had to do. By then, you had quietened down, and one thing a nurse had to do involved a needle and your foot. She said it probably would make you cry, but that was OK since that would help clear your lungs. I stood there waiting, she stuck your foot … and you grunted. That was it; no crying, no screaming, just a grunt and back to sleep. I should have known then that you’d definitely inherited the stubborn gene. I think it’s from Mom’s side of the family.
You had me wrapped around your little finger instantly. You still do. I remember getting up at night and trying to give you a bottle, but you wanted Mom instead and fussed until she took you. Then, I swear, you looked over Mom’s shoulder and grinned at me.
In retrospect, it’s amazing how fast the years passed (although I’ll admit there were a couple of phases where I’m pretty sure time slowed down). You practically became a mascot for Eli’s Boy Scout troop and said you wanted to be a Boy Scout when you got older. You and I would do things together, like the time we went to Eagle Awareness Weekend and it was cold. We still went on the bird walk with you carrying a little camera and taking pictures of everything. I shot a photo of you taking a picture of a plane at Gaston’s air strip. You thought you were big, and so did I.
Now, we go to movies together on occasion and I like that because we have similar tastes when it comes to some movies, especially comedies. I guess it’s that warped gene from my side of the family. Uusually with your boyfriend, too. I know I threatened to wrap the house in barbed wire when you reached dating age, but I couldn’t do it because you seeme so happy, and you picked a good one.
With you and your friends, we never had a dull moment around the house, or on road trips. You always kept things interesting. Sometimes it was like a Disney Channel show, sometimes it was like a soap opera, and sometimes it was like a sitcom. On occasion it seemed to be all three rolled into one.
During these last 18 years there have been moments of great joy, there have been occasions of sorrow, as in any life. You’ve always brought joy into our lives, and in those rare dark times you’ve been a light for us. To say Mom and I are proud of you would be an understatement.
As you’ve grown, your Mom and I have seen you become a wonderful young lady. You graduate high school this May, and you’ve already mapped out what you want to do. You’ve proven yourself to be responsible (with an occasional lapse, but we all do that sometimes). You have a kind heart and, for the most part, sensitive feelings, even when tormenting you ol’ Dad with that sarcasm gene that came from both sides of the family.
You’ve reached a milestone in life now that you’re 18, on the cusp of adulthood and with a wide-open future ahead of you. Just know that Mom and I love you, and always will. Happy birthday, Sweetie Pie.
Love,
Dad
It’s hard to imagine that you’re already 18. Where has the time gone?
Why, it seems as if it only was just yesterday that Mom and I learned you were on the way. We found out just before our vacation to Virginia Beach, and tried to keep it quiet until we returned. But, when we visited Aunt Connie your Mom told her, and she told her mom, Granny Myrtle. And so it went. Mom slept almost all the time while we were on the road, and an upset stomach had several waitresses at a restaurant where we stopped worried something was wrong with her food until she explained she was expecting. The ladies understood perfectly then.
The day you were born, I was supposed to go into the delivery room with Mom. I had my scrubs and cap and face mask and little booties on, but there was a problem – nothing serious, thank goodness – and I had to wait outside the delivery room doors. Not long afterwards, you arrived. You impressed Dr. Kerr with your healthy lungs. I don’t know why, but I had decided you were going to be a girl beforehand, and I wanted a girl since we already had your big brother, Eli. I just knew would, and sure enough you were. A beautiful baby girl.
I got to go into the nursery with you while the nurses did what they had to do. By then, you had quietened down, and one thing a nurse had to do involved a needle and your foot. She said it probably would make you cry, but that was OK since that would help clear your lungs. I stood there waiting, she stuck your foot … and you grunted. That was it; no crying, no screaming, just a grunt and back to sleep. I should have known then that you’d definitely inherited the stubborn gene. I think it’s from Mom’s side of the family.
You had me wrapped around your little finger instantly. You still do. I remember getting up at night and trying to give you a bottle, but you wanted Mom instead and fussed until she took you. Then, I swear, you looked over Mom’s shoulder and grinned at me.
In retrospect, it’s amazing how fast the years passed (although I’ll admit there were a couple of phases where I’m pretty sure time slowed down). You practically became a mascot for Eli’s Boy Scout troop and said you wanted to be a Boy Scout when you got older. You and I would do things together, like the time we went to Eagle Awareness Weekend and it was cold. We still went on the bird walk with you carrying a little camera and taking pictures of everything. I shot a photo of you taking a picture of a plane at Gaston’s air strip. You thought you were big, and so did I.
Now, we go to movies together on occasion and I like that because we have similar tastes when it comes to some movies, especially comedies. I guess it’s that warped gene from my side of the family. Uusually with your boyfriend, too. I know I threatened to wrap the house in barbed wire when you reached dating age, but I couldn’t do it because you seeme so happy, and you picked a good one.
With you and your friends, we never had a dull moment around the house, or on road trips. You always kept things interesting. Sometimes it was like a Disney Channel show, sometimes it was like a soap opera, and sometimes it was like a sitcom. On occasion it seemed to be all three rolled into one.
During these last 18 years there have been moments of great joy, there have been occasions of sorrow, as in any life. You’ve always brought joy into our lives, and in those rare dark times you’ve been a light for us. To say Mom and I are proud of you would be an understatement.
As you’ve grown, your Mom and I have seen you become a wonderful young lady. You graduate high school this May, and you’ve already mapped out what you want to do. You’ve proven yourself to be responsible (with an occasional lapse, but we all do that sometimes). You have a kind heart and, for the most part, sensitive feelings, even when tormenting you ol’ Dad with that sarcasm gene that came from both sides of the family.
You’ve reached a milestone in life now that you’re 18, on the cusp of adulthood and with a wide-open future ahead of you. Just know that Mom and I love you, and always will. Happy birthday, Sweetie Pie.
Love,
Dad
.jpg)
Comments
Post a Comment