It doesn’t seem possible, but 18 years ago today I was 9 days overdue. Our apartment building was in the process of renovation and on that day we moved into the first finished apartment. I was down on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. An older neighbor stopped by to see how we were coming along and when he saw me, he said: “Hey, you better be careful! If you do such strenuous work, that might induce labor.” I laughed and replied: “That’s exactly my intention.”

Afterwards we went out for a pizza at the place around the corner. We’d barely returned to the apartment, and then I knew it was time to go to the clinic. Upon arrival I was informed that I was the third woman in the delivery room who’d eaten pizza for supper that night! I wonder if their kids love pizza as much as my daughter does. Anyway, 19 excruciating hours later… (“No, I don’t want any painkillers! I’m sure this won’t take very long and I want to be fully conscious when my daughter arrives!”) she made her grand entrance.

Since then, it has been my privilege to experience countless dramatically grand entrances (and exits), happiness, laughter, pride, worry, anger, frustration, doubt and pure wonder. I remember that day/night/day as if it were yesterday, and yet it feels like eternity — all at the same time.

One more bittersweet reality of life. My little girl has become a beautiful young woman. She is strong-willed, determined, creative, fiercely loyal and yes, has a “slight” tendency towards Drama Queen. (Hey, Wierd Al, how about that for a song? “Dig it the drama queen, today she’s still seventeen, oh, yeah…”) She has always been on her own path, but tomorrow it is official. I am overwhelmed.

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