I’ve been thinking about some memories to write about for this letter. Just to see how far I can go back.
I vaguely remember playing in a wave pool in San Diego when we all went out there for Aunt Lynn’s wedding. I remember coloring with a ballpoint pen on printer paper once when we had to stop by your Foot Locker store, I don’t know how old I was then, but I had to have been little because I think I was coloring scribbles.
I remember you taking me to all of my Knights Elite cheer competitions in middle school (SUCH a trooper, I wasn’t even good yet!). I remember playing Math Blasters on your computer; actually I think I remember the first time you bought a computer, because I also remember cutting Sam’s ear when we were playing “barber shop” in the computer chair, haha.
I remember walking the aisles at Blockbuster every weekend with Sam, and how I learned some of my favorite movies through those nights (like A League of Their Own). I remember going to see the new Lord of the Rings, and that time we saw the new M. Knight Shamalan movie and I still don’t really know what it was even about.
I remember making gut bombs the first time. I remember so many trips to the farm. Oh – remember the time we went to the Yogi Bear campground and there was a frog in the pool? I am STILL scared of finding a frog in a pool.
I love that I got my height, my desire to be different, my ability to let my freak-flag fly, and probably a slew of other traits from you. I love that you introduced me to so many things that you love and that I love now too. I’m very lucky to have two parents who have managed to either consciously or subconsciously teach me so many important lessons throughout my life. And I think about them a lot as I’m getting older and the decisions I am making about my life feel more important than ever.
When I interviewed Mom for Mother’s Day I realized she was 26 when she had me. Like, when you guys were my age you were already married and a couple of years away from having a baby on the way. It’s so mind-blowing to me! I am painfully unsure about everything I’m doing all the time. Being 23 is HARD. Being 22 was hard, being 21 was hard. From watching you and Mom I realize that being older than that is hard and just generally being a person and taking care of yourself is hard.
Last year or maybe two years ago I stopped by your office before we took the train home from work and it was so awesome to meet all of your work peeps because I could tell how much they love working with you. It didn’t surprise me at all, you’re fun! And I laughed a bit seeing the photos of Sam and I at your desk from a long time ago.
I know I’m a lot older than that now, and am for the most part “self-sufficient,” (though I’m still trying to figure out how to pay for the dentist appointment to fix my tooth where a chunk cracked off a couple weeks ago). But stuff in life is still complicated and hard to manage a lot of the time. I feel like I have a very clear goal of where I want my life to go, but it takes a lot of focus and work to get there and sometimes I feel so in over my head. I guess what I am trying to say, is that I might not be the little girl in that photo anymore, and I might be able to home, clothe, and feed myself without your help, but it doesn’t mean I don’t need you at all.
I love you so much, I should tell you that every day.