Sleeping angel, circa 1990
(Toledo, OH) I can still remember the day that you arrived in the world, and how blue you were until you took your first breath.
You had to stay in the neo-natal intensive care unit for a few days until they made sure you were all right.
You were more than that - you were beautiful, and you were perfect.
And you still are.
Sure, you kept a messy room, and slacked on homework, and once drew the names of the notes on all the piano keys with red crayon. And you even - GASP - used to leave towels all over the house, despite the ubiquitous presence of laundry baskets throughout the house.
These things now make you all the more wonderful in my eyes.
Now you have gone away to college, albeit one within a comfortable driving distance from home. This is a sad morning, yet one I knew had to arrive. A look across the hall at your empty bedroom is a reminder that time stops for no one, not even me, not even you.
You will come home for holidays, and we will drive to visit you from time to time, but you are now officially a young woman, and no longer a child. I have to get used to the fact that you have grown up, even though the memories of you as a small child remain fresh in my mind.
May you have grand adventures and fond memories of college, daughter of mine.