I write this story on the 11th of December. A dreary, meaningless sort of day. A day in New England that the sun will stay away from. The darkness will win on this day as it appears.
As I reflect on this December 11th though I have a completely different view of it. Dinner plans tonight with my youngest daughter will rule this day for me. A nice restaurant with my family to celebrate my youngest daughter’s 18th birthday tomorrow. I wish we could do it on her actual birthday, but school, work, cheer and dinner with her cheer friends are already on the schedule for that day. So, tonight we celebrate.
I wish I had the right words to encapsulate her, but I never have had them. I’ve never been able to put her in a box. Just when I think I know her she tells me something that blows my mind. She isn’t a story. There isn’t a haiku or novel that tells me who she is.
I raised, or should I say my wife raised, her older sister who knew who she was from 5 years old. A dancing, hardworking democratic future elementary school teacher. I know her to her core. Although, in college she really has spread her wings and done a million things that surprise me, I know she will make it to being a really good, caring elementary school teacher.
My Kiley though, I have zero clue where she will be in 1 year, 5 years or 20. And, I absolutely love that about her. She’s a hairdresser, who might be a nurse, might be a criminal justice major, might go to college, might not, might live near me forever or might move to a warm beach forever and always.
She’s been kicked down a few times in her life, but man does she know how to get back up and push on. Things that would cripple me, she just cries it out and gets out of bed the next day and moves forward. I freaking love her resilience. Like she knows somehow how small these setbacks are in the big picture. Seeing that as a kid is such a wonderful trait to have.
She’s also a girl of few words. Our family group chats with our oldest, myself and my wife text daily. Our Kiley reads them and responds like once every three months. But, when she does it is ruthless, witty and really makes me laugh. She chooses her words wisely and makes them super impactful.
She complimented her sister on her fashion style a few weeks ago and I’m pretty sure my oldest wants to get a tattoo with those words on it to remember it.
Nobody on this earth makes me laugh like her. And, when I get a laugh from her, I know the joke is worth it. She is my north star for a joke. “That’s dumb Dad” absolutely crushes me. She is ruthless with her humor and that’s what makes me laugh the hardest. She doesn’t let me get away with anything without knowing the exact thing to say to bring me back down to earth.
We fight now because she lives in my house and she keeps her room exceptionally messy. I think it’s just to fuck with me honestly. She takes my car and leaves it messy with take out cups and assorted vapes (from her friends of course!). She says, “I know Dad, I will clean it tomorrow” and then tomorrow comes and she has to work or meet someone out or go to cheerleading practice. I can’t help being impressed with how good she is at avoiding cleaning her room.
But, those fights are really small. They will mean nothing when she is gone living her life outside of my house. I’m sure I will wish when I turn the corner that I would see her laundry on the floor someday in the near future. I know that. But she has taught me just how small those fights really are. She doesn’t give a fuck about the small stuff. She cares deeply about the big stuff. She’s loyal until she knows she shouldn’t be. If she loves you, you know it. When she cares, you know it. Her words carry so much weight in my heart. She means the words she says, and the words are never wasted. That is such a unique and admirable skill to possess at 17 years of age.
Tomorrow, she will be 18. Her Mom and Dad will mourn her childhood. She didn’t get to be the first. She lived in her sister’s shadow for a long time, probably something that makes her who she is actually. But she gets to be the last. I love that for her. She was never like her sister; she is completely unique. She wasn’t in our eyes ever Meghan’s sister. She was always Kiley. She provided her Mom and Dad with a completely unique parenting experience. We only have two kids. Two chances to earn those “Best Mom in the World” mugs.
Kiley is perfectly imperfect. Not sure where she wants to go. Not sure where her life will take her. Not sure which path she will take. She will fall, she will fail, but, she will. She will get up, she will be herself, she will fight for what she loves, she will continue to find herself and her tribe.
So, for all the doubts I have had about where she will be I have never doubted who she will be.
I absolutely love being your Dad. To be raised by you has been the joy of my life. You have taught me more than I will ever teach you.
I love you Kiley. Happy 18th
Forever and always your biggest fan and the luckiest guy in any room you are in….
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