It's Allie's birthday today. She's 18 now and I'm haunted with dreams of rejection and loss.
We've all been invited to her group home for cake and a small celebration.
Re-read that sentence, please. Because that's just weird.
What parent gets invited to their daughter's 18th birthday party? At a group home? (Insert more self-pity here.)
Yes, we'll have a group party for the kids, like we usually do, in June. But the strangeness of this... Well, I'm going to have to buck-up some today, aren't I.
But right now, I think I should at least honor the fact that 18 years ago when I first held her I never saw this coming.