Seventeen was that fun, magical age when you are still a kid but excited about becoming an adult. For me it was a time to be a little rebellious, and attempt to be an independent woman that I was to become.
Seventeen was also very stressful. I remember working my butt off in my high-school classes and applying to college worrying that I just may not have the GPA to get into the school that I wanted. Not only was I working hard on my grades, I was also working hard at my job.
I can still smell the french fries and hear the beep of the headset ringing in my ears from the drive through. "Welcome, to Hardee's. May I take your order?" I think I used to say that in my sleep.
Seventeen was a time of laughter, joy, tears and risks. I often stayed out late with my friends either at a pizza party at someone's home or as a passenger in a sports car driven by a stubborn, and reckless teenage boy. When I think back I can still hear the squeal of the breaks and smell the burned rubber on the pavement. Boys that my parents disapproved of fascinated me.
Now my daughter is at an age that brings back so many memories for me. Next year she will be half my age. What does she think about? Is she worrying about college like I did at that age? Does she stay up late talking with her best friend about her latest crush? Is she dreaming about what life is going to be like when she is an adult? Or is she savoring the last couple of years of her childhood?
I can probably answer yes to every single one of those questions. Goose, I love you. You are becoming a beautiful young lady from the inside out. I am very proud to have you as a daughter.