Matching outfits till you were 13. Bad for me. Worse for you. But, then there was the time you asked (actually you probably didn't ask) to borrow Laura's matching outfit so you and a friend could perform a choreographed dance to The Mortal Combat Soundtrack in the Wasatch Elementary talent show. I beamed with all the five-year old pride I could muster as you gracefully pushed through those round offs in the purple tank top and flowered shorts I knew all too well. People ate that stuff up. You were an all powerful, 6th grader. I was cool if only by association alone.
7th grade brought you to the stage of wearing Dad's old golf shirts from the 70s. This was before retro was cool, but in direct protest to all things trendy, there you were. 20 years ahead of your time. We can't forget, however, that you were still a tween in some respects. On several occasions you could be found on the roof hiding from everyone, and if we were lucky you'd lead us on a wild goose chase after "running away." I don't know that you ever got further than the Governor's Mansion. Drama aside, you still made time in those formative years, to rake leaves with me and stuff them up our shirts and run into each other like sumo wrestlers, and maybe play a quick game of Poison in the driveway.
The spotlight followed you everywhere you went, even when you didn't seek it. You cut your hair and cried, yet still managed to win homecoming queen in a pea pod green long sleeved turtle neck dress after your friends nominated you as a mockery of the tradition. You were an unlikely candidate, but you have always made your own luck.
I can't forget you informing me I needed a bra, TGIF every Friday without fail (Stefan was hot, how could we resist?), errands in the Staysh, hating running and hiking with you because I didn't feel like throwing up that day, singing Ani songs in harmony late into the night, writing songs about your boy problems, marveling at your innate desire to learn and teach.
Head strong, but good willed. No one can hate you even if they disagree with you. Your heart's too good. I still have the letter you wrote me while I was in junior high that you said to keep and read through high school. In a short 8 pages you told me that it didn't matter what anyone else thought, you loved me, and God loved me even if I didn't shower. Sometimes I still need the brute honesty of that letter, and sometimes the last assertion still unfortunately applies.
I have loved experiencing and watching others experience the gravity of your goodness. It is a pull I will never resist. Here's to the completion of year 26 of bringing people to their knees with admiration for you while you look up to the source of your good fortune and seek to share it--maybe that's what keeps 'em coming. Don't stop now. I know I couldn't stop you if I tried. I love you.
2 comments:
I love this post!
I was thinking about the matching outfits and decided that it was in fact worse for you. I only had to wear them once, but you had two of the same outfit to grow into until you were 13. That stinks worse than wearing it once when you're 13.
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