Because I've been enjoying audio books during my commute, I've collected a backlog of my regular podcasts. So, it was just the other day when I finally heard a recent episode of This American Life that had a brief segment near the beginning wherein a father was teaching his young daughter how to ride a bike.
I can remember teaching my daughters the essential art of bicycling. It seems like just the other day, instead of so many years ago.
Tonight, our oldest daughter graduates from high school -- another milestone in what is proving to be a banner year for her.
During a single week in February, she had her 18th birthday and received her acceptance letter from the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in Manhattan's Chelsea district.
Both of those figurative Acme anvils landed squarely on my head. It's hard to believe she's 18 -- that she's legally an adult, a young woman. And it's difficult for me to process the fact that she's NYC-bound.
Her fashion industry dreams are best served by her pursuit of a degree at FIT, which can be an important boon on her resume and help her connect to significant internship opportunities. So, I’m trying to temper my anxieties and apprehensions with the intellectual argument that children will grow up and pursue their own lives.
Do we want her living in New York City, where she will arrive knowing no one? Do we want her to learn what it is like to be far away from family and get sick or injured, when you are still learning what it is like to be on your own? No and no. But, we’ve every confidence she will thrive and achieve, and we’re happy she can follow her dream. (I just hope I can afford it!)
Later in life, I want her to be able to look back and say that we supported her dreams -- that we were not naysayers, but rather yaysayers.
It seems only a matter of weeks ago that I was teaching her to ride a bike, running along side her, willing her to succeed, and hoping to be there to rescue her at the last minute from scraped knees or bruised elbows.
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