How Do I Get That Far?

The question caught me off guard.

“How do I get that far?”

My 2.5-year-old daughter asked it with wide eyes and a tiny finger pointing at the graduation photo on my bureau.

She doesn’t know what a diploma is. She doesn’t know what college really means. But she could sense it… that picture meant something.

It hit me like a wave.

That photo was from my time at Ursinus. A big moment. A big achievement. One I never really celebrated. I remember being so ready to move on, so focused on what was next, that I didn’t let myself sit in the pride of what I had just accomplished.

And then there was the next step: graduate school at the University of Pennsylvania. That’s one I almost never talk about. I’ve shied away from sharing it… maybe because I didn’t want to seem like I was bragging, or maybe because I still struggle with fully owning the weight of what I did. Maybe it is that I am afraid to be smart.

But the truth is…

I worked so hard.

I took risks.

I invested…. emotionally, mentally, financially (and yes, I’ll probably be paying those loans for decades).

And I made it through.

And now, here’s this little girl looking up at that photo and asking the most beautiful, innocent question:

“How do I get that far?”

She has no idea how deeply that question moved me. She doesn’t yet understand what that “far” represents. But she feels it. At two-and-a-half years old, she already sees something worth reaching for. And in that moment, I saw it too…clearly, proudly, without downplaying or hiding it.

That photo isn’t just a memory anymore.

It’s a symbol. A reminder. A spark.

It’s a piece of the road I traveled to get here. And it’s part of the foundation she’s already building her dreams on—whether she chooses college or not, whether her path looks like mine or something entirely different.

What matters is this:

She saw the mountain.

She believed she could climb it.

And she asked how.

And I’ll be here every step of the way, reminding her that she’s brave, capable, and deeply loved… no matter what road she takes.

And as for me? I’m learning to hold my own journey with that same love. To celebrate how far I’ve come. To be proud, out loud.

Because sometimes the most powerful reflection comes not from looking back… but from watching the next generation look forward.

Have you ever had a moment where your child (or someone close to you) saw something in you that you had forgotten to honor?

I’d love to hear your story.

I’d LOVE to help you write that story!!