Happy 2020! Here’s to a new year and a new decade! I always love this annual time to reflect, declare resolutions and set goals for the months ahead. Carly was born in January, so for me, this is also the time of year when I deliberately conjure up a picture of our life together. She would have turned sixteen in 2020.

Here’s to Carly, as I imagine her:

You are halfway through your sophomore year in high school, and given what I know about this grade and our local school system, you are smothered in homework.

You can’t wait to drive by yourself, which makes me anxious.

You lose yourself in books, which makes me happy.

Like all the women in your maternal family line, you are sensitive. I think about what lies ahead for you in this regard—oy. 

You are not old enough to vote in 2020, but we still talk about the importance of the coming election. “I, know Mom,” you reassure me.

You are undecided about how to celebrate your birthday. You wonder if you’re too old for a party. Plus, if you did have a celebration but didn’t include every single friend, there might be hurt feelings. You definitely want birthday cake, however, and definitely with chocolate. You’re not too old for that. 

You want to plan our next summer trip. Shall we go mountain tubing down the winding creeks in the Great Smoky Mountains? Rent a beach house in the Outer Banks? Go to California to visit cousins?

Speaking of cousins, you never long for a sibling because one of your cousins is just on the other side of town. She is two years your junior and you are thick as thieves.

You have a phone, as do all teens your age, and I worry about how it’s always by your side. You remind me that I’m a terrible role model in this regard . . .

You try to convince me to love anything having to do with Star Wars. I try to convince you to love period piece dramas.

Your droll sense of humor makes me laugh every day.

You care about animals. You worry about how they will adapt to climate change. Greta Thunberg inspires you. As she does me, too.

You teach me teen lexicon; otherwise, I’d be too awks with your friends.

Your sense of direction is spot-on, which you did not inherit from me. I rely on you to lead the way on hiking trails, and to find our car in large parking lots.

You’re handy with an intuitive sense of how best to tackle simple household repairs. You didn’t inherit this skill from me, either.

You wave goodbye each day as you hop out of my car and dash toward your school. Sometimes this simple gesture gives me pause, as I know the day will soon come when you’ll be off on your own forever. Goodbye sweetheart, I whisper as I watch you disappear into the crowd. 

Happy 16th Birthday.