eighteen

Today is different.

Every year when this day approaches I take stock of how I’m feeling and the places where my thoughts wander. Typically I find myself at the crossroads of curiosity and longing – wondering how long your curls would be, begging my mind’s eye to give me even a hazy glimpse of you.

But today is different.

Today I’m not questioning how tall you would be, what passions you would be pursuing, or what kind of cake would be your favorite. Instead I’m caught up in the miracle of your existence, and what it means to be the mother of one who is leaving her girlhood behind.

Today, for the first time, I am the mother of a woman.

It’s a strange year to turn eighteen. The things we associate with coming-of-age – freedom, opportunity, celebration – they’ve all turned upside down in this world. They’ve become almost unrecognizable. Milestones seem to be overshadowed by the uncertainty of what’s to come. I laughed to myself the other day when I thought about your reaching adulthood during an election year. During THIS election year. I realized the joke is on me.

Today is different because it marks an arrival at womanhood for both of us. I’m not who I was when you were born, and that’s something I thank God for every day. In the past eighteen years my heart has been broken in ways I didn’t know was possible, but I’ve also learned how to walk forward in healing. I’m a better person, a better mother. (Your brother might even agree with me on that.) Of course I like to think that you’re proud of me, but more importantly I can say that I’m proud of me. That in itself is profoundly different.

But today is not defined by its differences. It will not be taken down by present circumstance. At the heart of this day is a powerful, indescribably love that belongs to me alone. Today I celebrate life. Your life, and mine. Today I marvel at the miracle of being and God’s goodness through it all.

There will never be a day that I don’t miss you. Nor will there ever be a day that I don’t feel you with me and in everything that I do.

Today is different. I’m different. But the things that matter, the truth of my love for you, will always be the same.

Happy Birthday, my Elena.