Parents watch children grow up like weeds. When I watched Olivia, the oldest of my three daughters, receive her diploma at my Alma Mater, the University of Mississippi, memories flooded back.
Just a memory ago, she and her tiny-tot friends, ribbons in hair, strutting in their moms’ oversized shoes and dresses, faces smeared with makeup, were blowing out candles at a birthday party. Just a memory ago, she tried to convince me that enough junk to fill up a whole house would fit in a tiny dormitory room.