turning eleven

Sage turns eleven tomorrow. When I think about her, I remember her dad telling her as a child that God put her eyes in her head upside down. I think about her sense of humor and her laugh, and the ritual inside joke during our phone conversations: "Hey Sage, do you want a sahn-wije (sandwich)?"

Sage turns eleven tomorrow. On my last visit, I realized she's growing up. Her hair is getting longer, and she's looking more like a young teen. She didn't want to cuddle like a kid anymore. I was sad. "Just a glimpse of parenthood," I told myself. But her laugh is still my favorite thing about her. She's growing up in a way that makes me proud. We made her campaign posters for student government president. She tells her mom that she'll look after her when she's old. You can always count on her help with meal preparation and house cleaning.

Sage turns eleven tomorrow. Happy Birthday, Sagie.