Thursday, December 15, 2011
She's 18. She was just 3 and now she is 18. She has been a dream of a teenager to raise, is a godly girl, loves church, is grounded in her faith, is an amazing artist and photographer, hard worker, and she is 18.
I love watching her interact with her 15 year old brother as they talk music and do homework together. I love watching her confidently sit behind the steering wheel of her grandma's car and drive away to vocal practice. I love hearing about her day and what is happening at work. I love her fashion and artistic style. I love her laugh and the way she attacks difficult situations. I love her passion for serving Christ in foreign countries. I love the way she has grown and developed into a beautiful woman of God.
Though her ID signifies that she is old enough to live on her own, buy cigarettes, partake in purchasing lottery tickets, attend doctor's office visits confidentially, enlist in the armed forces, drop out of school with her GED, get her own checking account and apply for a credit card, she doesn't attempt to do any of those.
She still lives with us and asks that I "tuck her in" and pray with her at night. I drive her to the doctor and listen while they ask her personal questions. I cook her dinner and pour her orange juice. I wash and dry her clothes. I take her shopping and pay the tab. I like that part.
We like each other. We love each other. We understand each other. She is my girl. She is my only girl. She is 18.
Although she is officially an adult she is still my baby girl and that will never change.