This past Monday my youngest daughter started high school. Like all new beginnings and firsts, this one made me reflect back on her life. If I close my eyes, I can see her curly blonde hair sticking up every which way. I can see her blue, blue, blue eyes dancing when she laughs wide and big and carefree. I remember her first day of preschool and how nervous and excited she was to be around other kids. I remember her first day of kindergarten, public school, middle school like it just happened a second ago.
She has grown into such a joyful, funny, intelligent and beautiful young woman with a wicked sense of humor (served with a side of sarcasm). She loves God and family and friends and music. Oh, the music. This kid of mine can be in a different part of the house and I can belt out a line from a song of nearly any genre and she’ll join in and sing with me. I have videos of this kid singing in the car on road trips of Black Sabbath, Queen, the Village People, Imagine Dragons, Mercy Me, etc. She’s awesome that way! I love her so, so, so much that my heart hurts. I describe my girls like this: my oldest is that little piece of my heart that walks outside me; my middle is that little piece of my personality that walks outside me; and my youngest is that little piece of my soul that walks outside me.
So when did this