My little baby, Brynn, turns 12 today. Shocking. Back during Christmas we watched some DVDs that I created of the girls and seeing my little Brynn as a baby brought back a rush of memories. Of course, seeing all the girls at the younger ages always brings in a desire to freeze time. Every good parent feels that way—holding time at specific moments when the child was young, priceless and cherubic.
Yet, twelve is also a great age. It’s an important one too. In many cultures, 12 is that age when a child moves into “adulthood.” At various times in the past, girls were married off soon after this. For certain, a 12 year old was assumed capable to handle things in the house and often would be the principle person to prepare meals or tend to the younger children. Now, of course, 12 just means one year closer to those “teen years.”
Brynn is an amazing young lady, with spunk and zest. She brings a powerful energy to every group or moment.
She makes me smile as she engages life. When I’ve had a long day, I can always count on her to give me a hug and check on me.
I still remember her birth, the last of our three girls. Even though Kim and I were “old hands” now, her coming was as miraculous as her sisters before her. Brynn was the only girl that we knew was a girl (yep–we are “old school” and didn’t want to know with the first two), so we already had time to think and dream about the girl she would be.
You could say that Brynn is a mix of the other two, images and attitudes mixed to become her own person. And the world is a better place because she is around. I can’t wait to see what the next 12 years brings for Brynn, though for now, I want to slow time down even more, make every second like an hour, every day like a year.
I love you Brynn.
Happy Birthday, my dear child.