It’s my baby girl’s birthday. She’s 24. I don’t know if it’s polite in society to reveal a woman’s age, but I just can’t believe it.
If ever a child gave a parent reason to be proud, she’s the example.
Today, she lives 800 miles from home near Washington, D.C. We visit each other as often as we can, but I still miss her.
Funny, I don’t worry about her. I know she’s capable and uses common sense. Whatever she does, she’s going to be OK. I know it.
I have lots of recollections of a try-hard person who persevered when many would have quit. That, probably, is what I am most proud of. When a wall was too high to climb, she would disassemble it, brick-by-brick, until she could walk through it. She’s always found a way to the other side.
So, there she is, a young woman, making her own life, her own friends, and her own experiences. I’m proud of you Cortney, and Happy Birthday!