Birthdays and the Passage of Time

So today is my daughter’s birthday. I can hardly believe that a mere fifteen years ago I held her tiny newborn form in my arms. She had a full head of frosted hair—dark brown waves with blonde tips. She was awake and alert, more alert than I was, and was doing more advanced things than the nurses thought possible.

She never stopped amazing me, then or now.

Sure, she was particularly clingy when she was a baby, preferring to be in my arms rather than anywhere else (not that I minded—usually). And now she’s fiercely independent and I don’t see her often enough.

I suppose all parents find themselves in this very position. When their children are babies, they feel complete exhaustion—and complete joy—and see years of their future stretched out in front of them. Then, before they know what’s happened, those years are gone.

Where did they go? When did crawling and toddling turn into gymnastics and dance? Loose teeth and pigtails become makeup and curls? Learning to read become learning to drive?

I blinked, and she was grown.

I’m afraid to blink again. She’ll probably be married and moved out.

Another blink, and I’ll be holding a grandchild with frosted hair.

Time is a funny thing. It’s the greatest joke of our lives. When we’re young, we have far too much of it, and it passes far too slowly. Everything takes forever, and our milestones seem far in the distance. We can’t wait until we’re ten (double digits), thirteen (an official teenager), sixteen (driver’s license), eighteen (an adult), twenty-one (officially legal), and then something happens.

We get a job. Maybe get families of our own. Time has sped up. We’ve hit twenty-five. Somewhere between a third and a quarter of our lives are gone. That clock? It ticks louder. And faster. And we don’t know how that happened. Not too long ago we didn’t even hear it, and now it’s become a nagging sound, kind of like a fly we can’t swat away.

By the time our kids are growing (or grown) and we’re evaluating our careers, possibly facing our last career choices in life, that clock is loud, no longer an annoyance, but a painful reality. And our kids are moving on, beginning to hear the buzzing.

By the time the clock is an obnoxious reality, we have grandchildren, maybe great-grandchildren, who can’t wait to start reaching milestones of their own. And we’d give anything to slow things down, just to watch them reach a few more of them.

Time is a funny thing, indeed.

Yes, fifteen years ago, the nurses put a squirming bundle in my arms, and I knew I was holding something special, something miraculous. Someone who would touch my life and enrich the world in so many ways.

I wasn’t wrong.

My daughter is an amazing person, and she’s made my world better every day she’s been a part of it. Happiest Birthday, my darling daughter.

For Writers:

We often get caught up in the lives of our major characters. We forget that our minor characters are there, not just as filler, but as vehicles to advance the plot. That means that we can use a combination of young children and older, wiser adults to enrich your plot. These characters, and their perception of the passage of time, can be used as plot devices.

For Everyone:

We’re celebrating today. It doesn’t matter how fast our clocks are ticking, it’s a good day in our house. We try to celebrate life every day, but today is extra special. Favorite meal, favorite cake, and of course, gifts. Do you celebrate birthdays in a special way? Do you make every day a special day? Let’s talk about celebrations.