I sat in a soft chair on the Mezzanine of the exquisite Joseph Smith Memorial Building in Salt Lake City and cried as I watched the back of your 18-year-old person walk to the elevators and disappear to floor 9. Son, you may wonder why I cried. You've had other jobs. This should have been no different. But it was. It was very different. You see, I realized today you're a grown-up. You may argue that 18 is not a grown-up but see why I got all choked up today and then convince me you haven't grown up yet.
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