Forever Now

Dang you, Michael Bublé! You had to do it, didn’t you? You just had to try to make me cry. Well, it worked, okay?

I knew I would. And usually I try to avoid these sappy songs and videos that pull at your heart strings and make you regret every ounce of anger you’ve ever felt at your kids. You end up wanting to drive over to the school, check your kids out, and never bring them back for fear that their childhood is slipping away and you’re totally missing out on all of it and have completely wasted your time worrying about dumb, insignificant tasks like laundry and dishes and groceries.

So, Mr. Bublé, you succeeded. Now, I’m looking at the clock, watching the minutes tick away until I can pick them up in an hour and half. And hour and a half! That’s, like, an eternity!

But, seriously, that song. That video. “Forever Now.” It’s true. So true.

My oldest daughter is fifteen and a half—just started tenth grade. She has her learner’s permit to drive, and she’s taking AP classes. When she sings, she sounds like she’s twenty years old, and she has just barely passed me in height. (I’m pretty sure her three younger siblings will also pass me up.) And, truly (I mean, truly) I could have sworn I, too, “just met” her. I was just seeing her eyes open for the first time and tucking her in at night, holding her hand while we walked, or singing the same three songs to her every night before bed while she sucked on her fingers and held her stuffed tiger underneath her nose, her big blue eyes fixed on me in the moonlight.

I’m not sure I’m ready for this whole child-turned-adult thing… But I’m sure praying she’s ready.

Now, through the years I’ve made mistakes, which is all too easy with your first child. The Guinea Pig. The Hey-let’s-try-this-method-and-see-if-it-works kid. Life’s not fair for her. All of us know that. But she’s cool with it, for the most part. I just remind her every once in a while, that we’ve never parented a child who is fifteen and 168 days old before and that she needs to be patient with us.

But, you know, I think we’ve done some things right. She (finally) keeps her room clean (which may be just to spite her sloppy younger sister, but we’ll just say it’s from good upbringing). She bathes regularly, dresses modestly, and doesn’t feel the need to wear a ton of make-up. She’s confident and comfortable in her own skin, and has always been so. She genuinely cares about people, and is a hard-working student. And she is a gifted musician. I remember the days when she was little and we prayed that we would be able to potty-train her—that we’d be home-free once she jumped that hurdle. Two years later (yup) that day came, and we rejoiced ever so briefly till we realized she next needed to learn how to read. We thought, Okay, once she learns how to read THEN she’ll be good to go! Well, now we stare at her driving permit everyday anxious about the fifty hours of driving time she needs before she can get her license next summer.

And I need her to drive. Badly.

While the sun may be setting on our time at home as a complete family of six, I see the glimmer of dawn on a new beautiful day—an entire lifetime of adventure for her, and a front-row seat for her dad and me. Just as you say, I—we love her “forever now.”

Ugh! Hang on, I have to go change the laundry…