21

erica turned 21 today. twenty-one. 

how can this be?

at breakfast, alan retold her birth story in vivid detail, complete with information about my cervix dilation, pushing, and the banana shape of her head when she finally made it out. i love hearing childbirth stories.  (we women live for those stories.  they are our war stories.  us, facing the enemy of our fear and our pain, enduring an overwhelming physical and emotional battle in what feels like near death, and coming out victorious, holding, finally, the reward of a tiny human being--that beautiful, miraculous red badge of courage and love.)

  on our way to dinner that evening--erica chose to have dinner at p.f. chang's--alan said, rather matter-of-factly,  that we now needed to change our will and give erica legal guardianship of her sisters, in the event of our tragic and untimely death.

   the girls all looked at each other with wide--almost hopeful--eyes, and i could see all the possibilities swirling around in their active little minds, thinking about what kinds of rules they would hopefully not have to put with in a big-sister-run household.

but then, a horrible thought struck tessa, and she yelled out, "what if erica turned out to be like the wicked step-mother and made us sweep the chimney and mend the clothes and mop the floors all day."  and then the three older ones decided that any one of them would be capable of being the guardian, and that they should have tryouts. (cooking, cleaning, etc.)  

was i ever feeling valuable.

the evening was wonderful.  we played the "2 truths and a lie" game at dinner, (alan made up his own rules and told three truths, which threw us all off) ate delicious chinese food, had an ice-cream cake back at home and watched erica open some presents.

erica plans to get an apartment this summer in santa barbara with some friends from school.  this feels much more adult than her moving into the dorms did when she was 18.  this feels permanent.   she says she wants to see if she can support herself.  i love that she wants to find that out.  i'm kind of curious too.  we will all miss her so much this summer.  her laughter, hugs, her sweet, compassionate ways.

but as i am learning more and more these days, these are the years when we mothers sit back a little and watch and see the fruit of all those years that now seem like such a blur.  when we see if what we have worked so hard to plant has taken root by God's grace.  when we say less and pray more.

it happens faster than you can ever imagine.  and in spite of those nagging pangs in my soul, it is as it should be, so it is good.

i guess.