Freebird
I am officially “old” today. My oldest kid turns 18, the moment she’s been waiting for, when the heavens open up and the angels come down and bestow upon her the title of Adult, Grown Up, Legal. She can magically do lots of things today that she couldn’t legally do yesterday: vote, smoke, get a tattoo, buy a house, sign a lease, get married, change her name, buy a lottery ticket, get medical attention without consent, open a bank account, own a stock, get a credit card. In short, she is now Completely Free to make lots of binding decisions that can affect the rest of her life. If that’s not enough to age you as a parent, I don’t know what is.
The day she turned 5, I was handing out birthday cupcakes to happy kids in her kindergarten class. That day, as it turns out, was also the day the World Trade Towers fell in New York City, the Pentagon was hit, and UA Flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania. A few weeks earlier, I’d braced myself to hand over my firstborn to teachers at a new school and now all I felt like doing was holing up in a safe bubble at home forever.
Because of the date, every birthday she’s had since then has been filled with memorials and pictures on the news and internet that never fail to bring back the exact emotions of that morning–panic, horror, fear, disbelief, despair. Instead of giving into that fear, like everyone else, I learned to take a deep breath and forge on. It was a good lesson for me to learn as a mom early on because over these past 13 years I have been constantly faced with a series of “trusting and letting go” moments as my daughter jumped into life with both feet.
As an Official Adult, she can, as Ghandi said, go forth and be the change she wants to see in the world. When people ask when her birthday is, she used to kind of mumble the date and wait for the inevitable reaction–Oh. Like she bore a disfiguring scar that she’d suddenly revealed. I think the distinction has had an effect on her but not what you might expect. With each passing year, she’s learned to wear her birthday like a badge, not a scar. She has adopted a “yes, but” mentality, which has leaked out into other areas of her life.
Yes, 9/11 was a terrible day in our history, BUT it’s my birthday and we can celebrate THAT. Yes, I messed up big that time, BUT each day is a new one and I can start over. Yes, children are dying from hunger every day, BUT I can do something about things I’m not okay with (18000 for 18000 is an organization she started with her friend to make a difference).
I love that 9/11 doesn’t hold her back. I love that she wakes up each September 11 excited about the day and eager to face it, DESPITE the feelings that creep back in each time it rolls around. I love that she reclaims her right to that day as her own, unmarred by the cowardly acts by despicable men. I hope she will use her Newfound Freedom of Adulthood to do great things and plant seeds of goodness. Freedom is the watchword of the U.S., our foundation and one of our greatest values. It is what others tried to take from us in acts of terror, but fittingly, it is also our rallying cry and the cement that binds us together, enabling us to rise up in opposition and stand firm. Now that she’s 18, and legally “free,” I hope my daughter will spread those wings of hers as she was meant to. I hope she will come to see her freedom as a gift that’s ultimately meant for responsibility as well as exploration. And, I hope she’ll have a blast letting her freedom ring! Happy 18th Birthday, Sav!