Dear Poppy,

Today you are 15.

“No I’m not,” you would tell me, if I were saying this instead of writing it. “Not yet. I wasn’t born until 3:30.”

But your birthday’s your birthday, kid, and you can’t argue with me on my internet website. Over here it’s 24 hours of celebrating Poppy. As if there were enough hours in the day to celebrate you.

That’s the kind of person you are, though. You like things to be orderly and predictable and on schedule. I think that’s one of the reasons you did so well in school last year — your freshman year of high school, and your first year in public school. I was really worried about you going into that ginormous school and only knowing one or two people, but you absolutely owned it. Made a bunch of friends and got great grades. I was so proud of you.

You grew up a lot this year. You’ve been taller than me for a while now, sure, but I can also see hints of you growing into a bona fide adult. You’re taking on more responsibilities and taking ownership of the things your dad and I ask you to do and sometimes even doing chores before you’re asked. You’re navigating new friendships and old friendships and job challenges and on top of that a whole global pandemic and all of the changes that have come with that, and you’re doing it all with bravery and grace. This year has been very, very tough, and you’ve been a wonderful partner in our family as we’ve weathered it. I’ve been so proud of you.

You are so strong. And you’re funny. And talented. You’re a great friend and a wonderful daughter, and I am so, so proud of you.

You are 15, and I love you today even more than I did 15 years ago. And that was as much as I ever thought I could’ve loved anyone. Being your mother has been such a joy and privilege, and I can’t wait to continue to watch you grow. Did I mention I’m proud of you?

Love,
Mama