Pomp and circumstances

I am now officially the aunt of a college graduate.
It seems like only yesterday I was the graduate and the kid in question, my only sister's only child, was a toddler in a little sailor-style dress. And now, 20 years later, Kelly Elizabeth Corcoran's name appears on a sheepskin of her very own.
I've made my living with words over these last two decades, and I can honestly say I don't have enough of them to properly express how proud I am right now, or how very much I love this kid.
Kid. Heh. She'll be 22 at the end of June. Geez, I'm old.
Despite the obligatory bumps in the road, Kelly obviously found the right one during her college experience at Catholic University. While I may still be a better speller and writer, she can kick my butt in math, having closed her final semester with a B+ in calculus (which I damn near flunked back in the day).
Oh, and her major is architecture. I can design newspaper pages? Big deal. She can design a house ... with a nice patio ... and a green roof. And plot out the neighborhood it'll get plunked down in.
It's very obvious she's deeply into what she's doing, and that's worth everything, isn't it? Next up for her is a trip to Europe in a grad-level program with CUA. She'll be traipsing through Italy, Finland, Russia, Spain, then back to Italy, and I think she wants to work a couple more countries in if time allows. In August, she'll wing her way back to the States to begin her official graduate school adventure, in a two-year program at Washington University in St. Louis.
I'm getting tired just thinking about it.

Now...

And then...

But despite all her proud accomplishments, I look at her and still see that beautiful little girl.
The one who would beam as I walked through the door, run up and grab hold of one of my legs in a big hug. The one who loved kisses and cuddles. The one who snuggled into my side sitting on the floor of my parents' rec room, totally enthralled as she watched "The Wizard of Oz" for the first time.
This is still the child I endlessly played Barbies with -- though I loathe Barbies; the child for whom I sat through "Pocahontas" in the theater with a gaggle of giggly 5-year-olds as a chaperon for her birthday party; the child whose dance recitals and concerts and lacrosse games and cross-country meets I attended as often as I could.
And of course there are the occasional emergency "My paper's due in two hours; can you edit it?" texts I still receive.
I'd gladly do all of those things and more, all over again, just for her.
I've tried to think of sage advice to offer her as she sets off on the sometimes-treacherous path of adulthood, but it occurs to me she may not need it. She's smart and confident, and she knows how to laugh at herself and the world around her. Plus, she's half Irish, so she's got that luck thing going for her.
Yep, she's off to a fantastic start.
So, sweetie, here's to you. Life will knock you down sometimes, but I have faith you'll get right back up and keep pushing. And remember, no matter how old you get, or where life takes you, your old Aunt La loves you.