Relatively speaking, the one the state of California gave her was easy to dispense. Pass a permit test. Log lots of driving hours. Answer some more questions. Get a picture taken. And walk out with keys in hand and a new 16-year-old lease on life.
But giving my youngest a license to grow is much more difficult. It means trusting her with the responsibility of driving. It means letting her pay for her own gas and earn the money to buy that gas. It means trusting her to drive to good places and to make good choices as she drives. And then there’s the whole idea of my baby growing up. That’s mind-boggling. Soon our nest will be empty, soon the everyday life of parenting that we’ve known for 22 years will be no more.
So today I am happy-sad. And she is off to school on her first solo flight.