Sharing birthday with daughter is special
The other day my daughter was talking about her college options, brainstorming about the future, making plans. I looked up at this young woman of almost 15 and realized something: she is gone in three years. When did that happen? Thinking about this, I found a column I wrote about my daughter eight years ago, when she was celebrating her seventh birthday. And in honor of her birthday on July 8th -- well, actually we share the birthday -- I wanted to share this with you again.
July, 2002 -
God, I loved birthdays when I was a kid.
Who didn't, right?
But you have to understand - mine were the stuff of childhood dreams.
My Dad was my softball coach. Every year, he somehow was able to make sure we had a game scheduled on my birthday. I was the pitcher, and it seemed I always pitched a good game.
And every year, we won. Then came the A & W for the team. And, finally, the grand finale - a slumber party in our backyard.
It never rained. We never lost the game. We all got along at the slumber party.
Well, at least that's the way I remember it.