I have been up for one hour, and thirteen minutes.
Thirteen years, eleven months, and eleven days ago I was a goofy seven year old watching my dad pace the living room. He was waiting on a phone call from my Aunt Kathy that would officially make it legal for people to call him Grandpa. He was 42 years old, and not even upset about it. When the call finally came, it was such a relief. His first grandchild was in the world, and we were allowed to use the phone again.
So here we are. Today.
Thirteen years, eleven months, and eleven days later - that first born grandchild is about to graduate the eight grade. It's her last day of middle school before she enters into the high school, and starts the journey that will eventually make her life everything that she ever wanted it to be. She's going to make mistakes, but hopefully not big ones, and she's going to hit some pot holes, but hopefully not deep ones.
I believe in her more than I have ever believed in anyone. If there is a person on this earth that has the ability to make their dreams into realities, it's Hannah. She may have an attitude all the time, and I might want to knock her out at least once a day. But SHE HAS GOT IT. Everything she's going through comes with the age. Eventually she's going to wake up, and her parents will have a grown person on their hands. It only comes with patience and perseverance. She has the ability to overcome anything life throws her way. I know this because she's just like her mother, the ability to overcome is built into their blood.
So all that I hope for on this special day is that she starts to laugh like she's never laughed, and smile like she's never been so happy and only let the tears linger for a little while.
I also hope she's ready to take on the world, because it's been waiting for her for thirteen years, eleven months, and eleven days.