Another Milestone Birthday

Hard on the heels of Walt Whitman's birthday comes that of my daughter The Heir. This is a milestone for her as well, but she doesn't want to talk about the number, and neither do I.

The Heir has a style all her own. It's definitely out there somewhere in the ether.

EXHIBIT A: CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK

My family is definitely "grab a costume and ride." The Heir has the most flair in this regard.

EXHIBIT B: THE APPLE DOESN'T FALL FAR

I remember once, on Halloween, Heir went out dressed as a drag queen. That's a girl dressing up like a guy dressing up like a girl.

It's such a cliche, the idea that the moment you hold your baby in your arms, you become smitten and the Earth quakes. That certainly doesn't happen for everyone, and I would be the last to suggest it ought to be this way. Speaking only for me, it was. When the nurse handed me The Heir, the ground moved under me. I was never the same. Eventually the love I felt for her and her sister pushed me to the Goddesses, because for me, the mother/daughter bond was transcendent.

At a very low moment in my life, the Heir had occasion to read me the riot act. The fact that I had angered her altered my behavior completely. I changed overnight. That's the power a loving child can have over you: that you're willing to be your best self to make them happy, even if that takes a hell of a lot of work.

The Heir got a bachelor's degree from a 4-year liberal arts college, where the deans assured her she would be employable once she clutched the sheepskin to her bosom. Well, she does work ... and five days (sometimes six) a week, too. The jobs she has require that sheepskin. But they don't pay well, and they don't provide benefits. Her college loans hang over her, not enough to color her world, but enough to feel the flecks of pigment when she wants to be part of the purchasing economy,

I've got to hand it to her, though. She had a good season at Penn Christmas this year, snagging (among other goodies) a lifetime supply of freezer bags.

EXHIBIT C: HEART OF BRIGHTNESS

In so many ways she has surpassed me. Almost every Sunday she goes into Kensington, which is the worst drug neighborhood in the Mid-Atlantic, and she hands out clean needles, first aid supplies, and food to the addicts living there. She is part of a group. I worry for her, but I'm also proud of her. She cares about her world and the people in it.

So, here's to The Heir! May she rock on and on and on! I love her beyond words.