It seems like only yesterday she was lying on my arm for the first time, and she fit between my hand and the crook of my elbow.
Sure as hell doesn't feel like twenty one years.
No-one told me she'd be different people as she grew up, and that each of those people would work their way into my heart, then disappear forever without warning overnight, breaking my heart each time, and a stranger would be waiting to do it to me all over again in their place.
I love the 21 year old Stevieling, but I'd trade an awful lot to be able to spend time with the four year old who knew so much about everything and was scared of nothing, or the two year old who figured things out for herself so ingeniously and loved the sea, or the six month old who only needed me to pick her up for all to be put right in her universe.
And of course, the ten minute old who just lay there on my arm and started the whole process.