On Her Own Road to “Amazing”: Hannah at 13
I could easily trip over the milestones set within this past week. First, my oldest boy Zach turned 16, and then, on Tuesday, my daughter Hannah became an official teen-ager. She’s been an unofficial one, off and on, for the past few months. Anyone blessed with a daughter her age needs no explanation of the constant surprises arising when child and woman live so closely together within the same skin…
Hannah sparkles in most lighting and is not an easy one to describe. Centrally located between two brothers, she learned increasing degrees of self-reliance from an early age. She was the quickest at learning to tie her shoes and to ride a two-wheel bicycle, and she gained “crossing the street” privileges at a younger age than her brothers.
She runs fast in races and on soccer fields, with a gazelle-like grace that is a wonder to watch. I’ve saved every note she’s written to me for the smile factor, whether tearful apology, pointed critique, or adoring words from my favorite girl. She films, sings, writes and is my “go to” girl for computer graphics. She encourages me to cook and likes my clothes well enough to even wear some of them…
The middle child position is not easy. Hannah has read up on it and shared the most pertinent details… And of course, her birthday week only proved her point(s). Her older brother had his sixteenth birthday first. Then her little brother upstaged everything by getting sick, hovering in his illness like a yellow jacket in August and delaying her “birthday dinner” for a few days. Her great-grandma had to be evacuated from her care center after a ceiling collapse 
(“adventures” are not always age-appropriate), requiring even more of her mom’s time… Would it help Hannah to know that she bumped Zach’s third birthday party by deciding to join us in this world just as I put the finishing touches on his birthday cake? Probably not…
I somehow thought that being the only girl would 
neutralize the middle child deal. That’s probably the “oldest child” in me speaking. I don’t fully get it, I know. But, I love what being a middle child has done for Hannah. She’s motivated. Organized (double points for achieving that as one of my offspring). Incredibly creative. Funny…
I look at Hannah and see “amazing”. Every time. She’s several steps ahead of where I stood at her age, both in ability and in confidence. And I think she’s bypassing the so-called “awkward stage”: that miserable zip code I resided in for much of my early teen years…
I’m sure there are times she feels that her capabilities are taken for granted, and at times, they probably are. She simply makes it look so easy.
She flowed so freely from building whimsical sand castles to dinner dress elegance during our beach vacation together last September. Glorious memories…
Eager child one moment, maturing young woman the 
next… I want her to know that parts of that tender girl are worth keeping forever. -That concentrated maturity is overrated, and that growing up doesn’t mean you quit jumping up and down when something sparks your heart. I hope her great-grandchildren will someday see the same sparkle in her eyes that I do and recognize the sweet core of Hannah, sacredly kept and carried within for a lifetime.
Matt was finally well enough for us to travel out for Hannah’s birthday dinner last night. We hadn’t ignored her actual birthday night, but it was nice to finally go out to dinner with a healthy family. Matt’s appetite was fully returned.
But sadly, Zach, whose presence normally ensures no left-overs in the home, wasn’t so hungry. In fact, he didn’t feel very good at all (Kids never get sick at the same time).
Hannah handled it with lady-like grace. We asked that our dinners be boxed up for carry-out. Singing waiters still brought Hannah a candlelit dessert but in a styrofoam container for easy transport. And we drove home…
Matt, Hannah, and I ended up picnicking by candlelight on a big sheet in the family room while Zach rested upstairs… Lily lay at the edge, sniffing and hoping for someone to drop a crumb.
If it’s not one brother, it’s the other, huh Hannah?
But she’s thirteen, my favorite girl, and well on her way to “amazing”…
Very sweet story. I’m sure your children are the children they are due, in large part, to the parent you are.
As you point out, children never get sick all at once. My boys, one time, arranged to get sick one after the other followed by the first one coming down with something again; it was almost as if I had four children.
Beautifully written. So interesting seeing Hannah through your eyes. You have much to be proud of, in her as well as in how you’ve helped shape, form and inspire her.
Love the word-picture of child and woman coextising within the same skin. Hopefully that lasts a life time, not only while residing in this current ‘zip code’…
Hi Delmer!
Thanks.
Spring is looking pretty good… I spent a lot of time deleting events and optimistically updating calendar appointments to future dates. Until my computer crashed… at which point I tried to find joy in merely keeping up with the germ-laden laundry. Hibernating is hard work!
Thank you Richard!
Growing up doesn’t mean growing out of everything, I hope! The best elements of ourselves are never age-specific. I think Hannah’s figuring that out…