Sixteen.

My son turned 16.

He was 11 when his father died.

Today, he is driving his own vehicle to and from school. Helping cart his sisters around and running errands. It brings me so much pride. So much joy.

I do not cling to the younger versions of my kids. I want to see them grow and become more independent.

A driver’s license may mean he is out and about with friends most nights instead of home with me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For over four years I’ve been a single parent and the sole driver for our family.

Three very active kids with competing sports schedules means I’ve been in my car for four years straight. The mom taxi. Even with help, carpools, Grandma, it’s a lot of driving.

I’m so grateful that my son has hit this turning point. That he is reliable and kind like his father.

I was able to surprise him with a meaningful vehicle that came from a friend’s loss of a parent. It’s beauty in the pain when that car moves on to a young man who also knows the loss of a parent.

This milestone makes such a difference for a family like ours.

Congrats, Walter! You are so loved.