Our daughter, Sierra, left her teens behind her a few weeks back with the arrival of her 20th birthday. I’m not sure how she can be 20, seeing how I’m only 23, but then again I’ve never been all that handy with numbers. I was 23 when Sierra was born, and I do still “feel” like I haven’t strayed all that far from that age, although there is some greying fellow in the mirror who intently watches me brush my teeth and shave each morning. He seems harmless, a bit odd, but harmless.

Time is an odd thing. Relentlessly moving forward, yet fluid and timeless within the confines of our memories where time travel is very much a reality. If I could go back and chat with my 23 year old self, the new dad of a lovely little girl, what sage advice would I offer? Other than, “don’t wear pleated front pants and burn your muscle shirts” I’m really not sure what I’d have to say? The stock advice, “enjoy it, it goes fast” just about sums it up.

It does go fast, and I enjoyed every minute of all that has passed and look forward to all that there is to come.

It just feels odd when your child gets to an age that you distinctly remember being yourself. Most of my students are the same age as my daughter, which has also been an odd transformation for me, a transformation that has made me a better instructor. Feeling “fatherly” around my students has allowed me to get past any delusions of appearing “cool” and “hip”. Both of which, we are well aware, a dad cannot be. At least not simultaneously.

Being able to remember being 20 and having a daughter that is 20 can make a dad lie in bed and stare wide eyed at the ceiling at night. Knowing quite well that the Chrest and Ellis force is strong in that one, you hope against hope that some of your wife’s sensible genetics rise up when the sun goes down. Unlikely, but sometimes hope is all we have.

When Sierra was little, one of the things I dreaded most was the thought of a boyfriend. I dreaded this because generally speaking, boys are idiots. We…I mean they, are immature, crude, and lack the sensible foresight to realize that most every thought they have should be ignored…okay, I mean we. Then one day an odd thing happens, some of those boys grow up and seem to possibly be suitable enough to keep company with your daughter, and you grow up and realize that seeing her happy is all that really matters.

Being a dad is funny that way. You spend all those years holding them tight and then you realize that when you are able to let go a little they become closer than ever. Sierra is doing well at Montana State. Bozeman has been a good fit for her…hipsters, gypsters, cowboys, and odd artistic folks abound. It’s a long ways from Rapid City, but her room is just down stairs, and I sit in there from time to time when the distance feels too far.

Happy Birthday Sierra, see you at the 109 Club next year.