You can decipher how infrequently I post a Facebook status, because when I do, it usually gets noted here. Today’s status: “I am now childless.”
As of today, my youngest is 18. She no longer needs our consent to work, vote, marry (or act like it), join the military, or sign a contract.
Some 18-year-olds admit they’re not adults. Even Alice Cooper knew this:
I’m in the middle without any plans
I’m a boy and I’m a man
And I don’t know what I want …
Don’t always know what I’m talkin’ about
Feels like I’m livin’ in the middle of doubt
Adulthood is subjective. Lily, like all of her siblings, I do consider able to make mature decisions, exercise self-control, and live responsibly. For this I give all the credit to God. Her older sister and our son-in-law were married last autumn, just prior to the bride’s 20th birthday; some thought that young. We can see that both the bride and groom were prepared. The fact is, in many parts of the world girls marry younger, and western culture used to be so; now they push marriage away in more ways than just age.
Like many parents, at this crossroad I consider my life at the age of 18. I couldn’t wait to get out of my step-father’s clutches, but was by no means ready. He glommed onto the legal technicality of his legal responsibility ending, and downloaded me quickly. I was all too happy to pack up, and the lions were waiting.
Our youngest won’t be hasty; she recognizes her quiet nature has kept her younger at heart. She and I talk about her plans, but I won’t take it upon myself to spell them out on my personal blog. Suffice it to say, she’s pensively postulating and percolating. But unlike Mr. Cooper, she’s Eighteen / And she knows what she wants.