My little girl turns sixteen today. I’m sitting at a little desk at a bay window in the living room of my home, the home where my little girl has grown up, reflecting on time.
Scraps of memory:
Eighteen years ago, my wife and I, married two years, walked into the very spot where I now sit with a real estate agent, and we both knew instantly that this house would become our home.
Sixteen years ago in March. We are home from the hospital — with no instruction manual! — and a beautiful, perfect baby girl lies in the car seat. On the very spot where I now sit, I hold this precious gift in my arms and promise her I’ll do my best for her.
Thirteen years ago in December. There is a Christmas tree in the corner, right next to where my desk is now. My little girl is hanging decorations, singing “Hallelujah,” tossing her hands in the air.
Ten years ago, in this room, I am crouched on the floor, covered in a blanket. My little girls is running in circles around me, laughing, waiting for the “monster” to grab her with the blanket and tickle her toes.
This tiny little living room has seen lots of life.
One reply on “Sweet Sixteen”
Thanks for the heartfelt heads-up, David. With mine, who is only a year and a half and is sitting next to me wearing a doggie costume right now, it seems like the time is flying by so quickly…