Another chapter on growing up ~ June 24, 1993

David Heiller

It’s funny how children can grow up and you don’t even notice it. It’s like leaving your bare garden for two weeks in early June and coming home to see everything sprouted and growing like crazy.

That’s what we did last week. We came home and saw a garden full of young plants, and on the east side of the house, the yellow irises were in full bloom. Like Emily.

That’s how I felt after our family took a vaca­tion to Texas. We had been there six years earlier, and that was the last time I had really seen my niece, Emily.

Malika and Emily

Oh sure, we saw her briefly a time or two since then. We had seen pictures at Christmas, and heard tidbits in letters and from Mom, who keeps tabs on her grandchildren like good grandmothers do.

But we didn’t see Emily grow up, which is the way things go in this modem world of ours, where people move far away in search of jobs and security and happiness.

Six years ago in Texas, when Emily was 12, she took our daughter Malika under her wing. She shared her room, and watched out for her, and bought her a necklace and bracelet for a going-away present, and generally had the patience of Job, which she needed for that two ­year-old.

She impressed the heck out of Cindy and me. I even wrote a column about it, because she had brought back some fond memories of me singing her songs and reading her books and watching her grow up. That was when she was about eight, my daughter’s age now, before she had moved away.

I hope Mollie turns out like her, I thought six years ago.

I still think that, because we found almost the same Emily in Texas last week. She shared her room without a complaint. She bought Mollie a pencil pouch and barrette for her birthday.

Emily even took Mollie to the day camp where she works as a counselor. Mollie had a grand time, played all day, and made some new friends. It was the highlight of her vacation. Maybe it was Emily’s too.

But something was also different about Emily. I really discovered it when I took her to a deli on our last night. We had gone there six years ago, so it was a reunion of sorts.

The last time at the deli, we made small talk, the way you talk to a 12-year-old. This time though, we really talked. She shared her dreams, talked about her boyfriend, told me other per­sonal joys and sorrows. I suddenly realized that I was talking to a different Emily, a grown up one.

Yes, she’s got a lot more growing up to do. Everyone can remember how they owned the world at age 18. But here’s one kid that is going to make it.

My sister had told me how lucky she was to have a daughter like Emily. I didn’t tell Emily that. Hopefully she knows it.

This is a story that hasn’t ended yet. Six years from now maybe I’ll add another chapter. I hope it has a happy ending. I think that it will.