On the tip of “The Tipping Point”
Eight is a funny birthday for me.
Because nine is the tipping point. It is the "halfway" point to 18, the point at which life begins, or ends I guess, depending on how you look at it. Nine-years-old is the point at which kids have reached the top of the "clank, clank, clank" chain pulling them to the top of the roller coaster, they are pointed at the pinnacle for that hairsbreadth of a second before they fall down the hill, racing as fast as they can away from childhood.
And so eight is a bit peculiar.
Because at eight, there is still that gravity pull towards childhood. Oh to be sure, there is still the "clank, clank, clank" as we go up, but now the top is in sight and the pull towards the younger days is not nearly as strong as the lean towards tomorrow. Sometimes I see you doing something and I realize that you have already begun to throw your hands up in the air, in expectancy of the runaway ride to Freedomville that will be coming soon.
But Mabel, there is no hurry…Really. We can take this last year as nice and slow as you like. There is nothing wrong with being a kid, With acting like a kid and dressing like a kid, and doing all the things that kids do. All that goofy older kid stuff will still be there, years from now.
And so will I. And your Momma. We love you big girl. Hang on tight…I have a feeling it’s going to be a wild ride.