He held her first.
Unlike most babies, she said "Mama" first. But she's still a Daddy's girl. Thirteen years later, that bond they forged there in the hospital nursery is stronger than ever. He still gets teary-eyed over her. The smile is still full of joy and uncertainty. The weight of raising a teenage girl in these times, heavy.
He's never let go.
Before she was born, I thought I knew much about being a parent. Today, as I think over the first thirteen years of her life, I realize I only know two things for certain.
The days are long, but the years are short. Thirteen years have passed by in a blur. I had no idea life would move so fast.
Time is growing shorter. Soon, she'll be leaving our home. I must use the time we have left wisely. I am so incredibly thankful that God can - and will - work in her life to make up for my insufficiency. (I'm learning much from this book.)
These thirteen years of being her mother have brought depths of joy and pain I cannot describe. They have humbled me in ways I could not have imagined. They have changed my life.
I thank God for each and every day He's allowed me to be her mother. I pray He'll allow many more.