For the first time since 1993, I am no longer the father of a teenager. And unless God has a big “Abraham-and-Sarah-meet-Isaac-like surprise” in store for us (a possibility I bring up in jest and don’t want to even contemplate in real life), I will never be the father of a teenager again. Angelynn is twenty years today. That hardly seems possible to me. I am tempted to say something about Angelynn being such a great kid. But she isn’t a kid. She is gown young woman… who is still financially dependent on Mom and Dad so we still get to treat her like a kid. That’s in the contract somewhere, right? I still see Angelynn in my heart as the little kid pictured at right. And what is more, I still see myself as the thirty year old that I was when Angelynn was born. But I’m not. Time marches on, and it reminds me of its march ever morning when I get out of bed with the kinds of aches and pains I used to have to chop wood or something all day to get. I don’t know where the time has gone, but it is gone.
I’m not the parent of a teen any longer. Now, I’m not saying that like that’s a bad thing. It’s not! At times (just sometimes, not most of the time) the best thing about raising a teen is that you know that you will be done at some point! But milestones like today do remind us that time is rapidly slipping through our fingers, and we’d better made the most of the 24-hour chunk that we have today.
Happy birthday, Angelynn! You are still Daddy’s little girl… and you always will be!




