Eleven years ago today I was attempting to ride herd over a dozen or so pre-teens at a roller rink party for the daughter of my boyfriend.
It hardly seems like there has been time to heal from the impact of the skaters who used parents as backstops.
But my daughter is 21 today. My sweet, shy, careful little girl has become a strong, beautiful confident woman.
I'm not sure how she pulled that off when I often feel like I'm still waiting to grow up.
She's in Georgia tonight with her Dad, her boyfriend and his family sharing her first (legal) drink and the hurt of missing it is far worse than those headlong skaters.
But she'll be here on Saturday.
I have to work, but she'll come backstage with me and share the excitement of a full house and a high energy performance. The staff and musicians will look twice when they notice the small, dark , beautiful person with me. "That's Judi's daughter???," they'll whisper incredulously. Jen will smile at them and they'll melt.
That's what her smile does to everyone.
And no matter how crazy things are around the performance, I'll be smiling too.
I was not looking for a husband when I met her father and I never imagined myself to be a stepmother (an evil persona reserved for the grimmest of Grimm).
From the time Jess was born I considered only the medical possibilities and assumed I'd only have one child. I did not realize a child can grow in your heart as easily as your belly.
Jen is a flip-flop wearing testament to the possibilty of beauty in everything. She's a daily reminder never to assume that small and weak are synonyms. She's giving, generous and wise
And most amazing, she is my daughter.
She gets her presents from me on Saturday. She gives them to me every day.
Happy birthday, Jen.
I love you.





Copyright 2005 Judi Griggs