Dear Julia: A Dad’s Letter To His Daughter On Her 18th Birthday

Good Morning Julia Katz!

Believe it or not, today is the day that you are all grown up. Eighteen years old is when society’s decided that you get to make decisions for yourself. Want to move away from your parents? You can do it when you turn eighteen. Get married without permission from someone else? You have to be eighteen. Pierce your nose? Tattoo your arms and legs? Sign a contract? Vote for President? Run for County Supervisor? Eat ice cream for breakfast? Each of these options is open to someone on the day that they turn eighteen, that’s the rule. Of course, just like every rule there has to be an exception. You, my sweet, are the exception. The most beautiful exception, but still the exception.

For you, sweetness, today will be a day like yesterday. It’s the weekend so, like every teenager everywhere, you’re going to sleep in. I’m not going to wake you up like I do on a school day so you feel free to stay cuddled in your bed dreaming, what I hope, are wonderful dreams where you are singing and dancing and eating the most delicious cookies in the world. When you do wake up, I’ll help you get out of bed and then change your diaper. I know you don’t understand why that is unusual but dads are not supposed to be cleaning up their eighteen year old daughters that way, but rather than shout at me to get out of your room you’ll hug and kiss me when you’ve got a freshie on and we can get you clean clothes to wear for the day.

You’ll look at me expectantly as I try to figure out what song you’d like to hear or television show you’d like to watch. Shall we start the day with The Beatles? You have always been my ray of nonstop sunshine so “Here Come’s The Sun” seems appropriate. Breakfast? Yes, that’s a decision that other eighteen year olds make every day but not you. I’ll have to decide whether I want to toast a bagel for you or cut up a banana to put in a bowl of cereal. You’ll happily eat whatever I prepare but would that be the decision you would have made?

Now, here’s the bizarre thing sweetness. Soon, Mom and I will stand in front of a judge and ask permission to take care of you forever. I’m sure the judge is a fine person but they’ve never met you and they don’t know us at all. There will be people you’ve never seen before asking you questions that you will never understand. Is there anyone anywhere that could take care of you better than Mom and Dad? I don’t think so but we have to ask the court to agree with that.

So, what’s next for you, Julia? We can all hope and pray that you get to go back to school soon. You’ll never have to worry about paying for a car but you’ll always need to ride in a vehicle that has room for your wheelchair. You’ll never buy a house but Mom and I hope that someday we can build a screened in porch for you on the back deck so that you can enjoy the fresh air more often. You’re not going to be choosing a college but Mom and I sure do wish that someday you’ll be able to learn how to let us know that you need to use the bathroom.

As is our Katz Family tradition, we’ll have a special dinner to celebrate this birthday. Each of us gets to choose our favorite food for our birthday dinner but you’ll happily eat whatever the rest of us choose for your special day. I’d give anything to hear you say, “Dad you know I don’t like that” or “Hey, it’s my birthday so I get to choose not you” but you’ll smile as I feed you. You won’t ask for anything as a present. You will not request that we throw you a party. There’s not a mean or selfish bone in your body. You’re blissfully unaware of the problems in the world.

I called a bakery to try and order a strawberry shortcake for your birthday but they told me that they don’t make anything except what is already on their menu. I’m disappointed because I’m pretty sure that is your favorite but I also know that you will thoroughly enjoy whatever cake we get.

Miss Katz, your eighteen trips around the sun have served to make this world a better place. You’ve made me grateful for the warm sun and cool breezes. You’ve shown me just how wonderful it is to get a cookie for a treat. You’ve taught this professional communicator that it is possible to say “I love you” without ever uttering a syllable.

As I say every year my dear, cookies and kisses Jules Bagools! Daddy loves you more than you will ever know.