Emily is 18

Emily is 18 today. I now have a daughter who is an adult. A sobering thought. A very sobering thought. I need a whisky. Or two. Hmmm...better make it just the one, I am in court tomorrow.

Eighteen years ago on this very day, she was born at North Middlesex Hospital. The time since then has been so eventful. It seems simultaneously to be both an eternity and five minutes ago. I wonder what Christine would have made of Emily to see her today ? I am sure she would have been incredibly proud. I would give anything to be able to let her know, to reassure her that the little girls that she brought into the world and that she loved so much, have grown up to be so bright, so self-assured, so beautiful and so full of life. They and now Molly, have enriched my life beyond all measure. I have no real grasp of the anguish Christine must have suffered knowing that she would never see them grow up, but even a moment's contemplation of it is apt to make me feel utterly desolate.

I remember my 18th Birthday Party. July 1979. I had swapped trainspotting for Punk, I had been going out with Christine, my first proper girlfriend (who 6 years later became my wife) for just over 6 months. I was no longer a virgin, the afternoon of Wednesday 30th May 1979 had seen to that. My fate was sealed so far as my A-levels were concerned. And at last I was old enough to set foot in a pub and purchase alcohol - although it is possible that this might have happened once or twice before that. I remember it as a time of great uncertainty and yet great optimism, but that recollection may be coloured by the 20:20 hindsight produced by my rose-tinted spectacles.

I wonder how Emily will look back on this day in 27 years time. Or if she will at all.