Jordan celebrated her 18th birthday the way she knows best—in the moment with an eye toward tomorrow.

We had to push the cart uphill. The nearest handicap space at our local market sat atop a slight incline. As we approached it, I asked Jordan if she wanted me to take over.

“No, Dad. I can do it,” she said.

And she did.

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I misjudge the strength required and lift her onto my back indelicately. Her chest lands with a thud, and she exhales forcefully into my left ear.

“Sorry about that, J.”

“No problem, Dad. It didn’t hurt at all.”

She adjusts balance on my back, and I reach behind to lock my hands under her rump for support. We use this piggy-back position when we are going short distances and wish to leave the wheelchair behind. It’s easier on everyone and I think Jordan likes traveling this way. To be honest, I like it, too.

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