All you remember about your child being twelve is sitting in the stands during baseball practice and hoping your child's team would strike out fast because you had more important things to do at home. The coach didn't understand how busy you were. You wished the baseball season would be over soon.

 

All you remember about your child being fourteen is being asked not to stop the car in front of the school in the morning. You had to drive two blocks further and unlock the doors without coming to a complete stop. You remember not getting to kiss your child goodbye or talking to him in front of his friends. You wished your child would be more mature.

 

All you remember about your child being sixteen is loud music and undecipherable lyrics screamed to a rhythmic beat. You wished for your child to grow up and leave home with the stereo.

 

All you remember about your child being eighteen is the day they were born and having all the time in the world.

 

And, as you walk through your quiet house, you wonder where they went and you wish your child hadn't grown up so fast.