Your 18th

To my daughter on her 18th birthday.

I started this a few years ago, not knowing where it was going to go or what it would look like.  I am very happy that I carried on with this or else those memories, feelings and thoughts would have been gone forever.

We can now look back at them and smile, fondly, as we enjoy those moments all over again.  We'll laugh, we'll cry and TC will warm our hearts with her thunderstorms.

So now it's over to you, my Thunderchild.

The Driving Test

Being 17 (and having turned 18 by the time you read this), it was a year of learning to drive.

We did all the normal things like getting a driving instructor, practicing and doing the whole parking thing.  I've definitely gotten a few extra grey hairs along the way, but we all managed to get out of it alive.

I was happy to impart to you one piece of knowledge I received from my dad:  If you can drive, you can park.  So we concentrated a lot on the driving aspect and really only did parking towards the end of the period.

Then, as such things always happen quicker than what you are prepared for, the day of the driving test came along.  And you managed to get the most scary instructor of them all - Hamish.  Off to the car you went and I sat down, pretending not to look and be nervous.

I walk around, check Facebook, read email, pace.  Then I see your car coming into the parking lot earlier than what I expected.  

Oh no, was my first thought.  

"I hope you're OK."  "We can make another booking soon.", I practice.

As you got out of the car I read your expression - YOU HAD PASSED!  You came charging across the lot and threw your arms around me, your smile was something to behold.  

Thunderchild, you did it.

The Meaning

Through the years the abbreviation TC was used to mean Thunderchild.  This year, it has taken on 2 different meanings as well.  One deep and one, well, WTF?

At the beginning of the hockey season, Thunderchild decided she was really going to give it her all.  She played for 2 different clubs, one U-18s and one senior.

For the U-18s it was easy for her to stand out and she was never really pushed that much.  However, playing for the senior team brought out the best in her.

You know TC, during one match you went down onto the ground to try and prevent a goal from happening.  Standing next to the field I was, as always, tremendously proud of you.  But then something happened that made me even more proud - on of the other coaches remarked on what commitment it took for you to do that.  You were putting in more than most on the field each time you played.  You played with heart.

In the last U-18 game you had a chance to play as a forward for the last few minutes of the match, but you decided to stay in defence to stop the opposing team from coming through.  This despite the fact that you always wanted to play as a forward:  you put your team first.  That day you were a wall - just nothing got past you.  Whenever the other team broke through, you were there waiting to take the ball from them and then it was just a jump to the left or a skip to the right and you'd be sending the ball back to where it came from.  As a parent it is just so cool to watch their children excel and enjoy their sport as much as you do.

And all of this eventually paid off with you winning the U-18 Most Value Player (MVP) award.  You earned the respect of the coaches, including those of the other teams you played against.

So, TC has now taken on another meaning - "Total Commitment".

So now for the other moment.

I get a text on Sept 10 2015, out of the blue:  "Was I a test tube baby?"

I had to take a deep breath.  What on earth was this child on about?  

"I'm okay if I am".  

I told her that she was NOT a test tube baby.  "But you tested me for Down syndrome and got help".  Now I don't know where she got the "got help" from.  The Down Syndrome test was just a standard one because her monther was 35 at the time.  The things you come up with sometimes!

So, Thunderchild, you are not a TC - "Test tube Child".