Sunday, we drove home from the farm in Louisiana. Saturday was your TWELFTH birthday and you each brought a friend for the weekend to celebrate.
Typically, I pen a birthday letter to you all.
I revisited my original blog birthday letter.
It’s fascinating what’s changed and what’s stayed the same.
I wrote about the eldest’s persistence even then and it’s still one of my favorite qualities about him.
While little bit is still fiercely independent and can tell (or reenact) a story with delightful dramatics.
And the baby? Well, he still has a sensitive soul and a love for learning.
Other things have changed.
But what I was struck by, on the drive home, was how amazing you and your friends are.
I thought, instead of a letter this year, I’d share that story.
You see, instead of the typical 2 ½ hour drive we were all expecting, you six sixth graders got a 5+ hour drive. Some highway construction genius decided to SHUT DOWN I-10 on a Sunday.
The freeway was shut down. And we didn’t know until it was too late and it took us two hours just to pass one exit.
That drive could have been a total disaster. I was certainly in frustrated spirits.
But you all made it fabulous.
You laugh and told jokes and best of all put on music, rolled down the windows, waved at the cars full of stranded drivers around us, and SANG. At the top of your lungs. Baby Shark. Avocado. Let It Go. You even had me singing. And cracking up.
What struck me is how cool you have all become.
How much I love spending time with you all.
Even in confined spaces J
This weekend you struck out on your own and fished and explored and fed horses.
You advocated for your lost dog and waded through murky marsh to rescue him.
Then you went and made a five hour car trip completely fun. A feat I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish.
As one of your friends said after FINALLY exiting the car back at the neighborhood, “I’d do that car trip again!”
So would I.
It defined for me what is happening. What you are becoming.
These grown (growing) people.
Of course there is still so much maturing and learning. But I’m starting to see glimpses of the older you. Who you will become. How you will make this world bigger and better and brighter.
Wow. Lucky me.
So all those words of the letters are still, mostly true, but for this birthday I thought I’d say thanks. Thanks for being an original. For learning and laughing and managing to figure all this stuff out. In the face of a world gone mad and hurricanes and cancer and pandemics, you just kept growing up.
I can’t wait to see what unfolds this year.
Love you more.