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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