The first person that ever told me that my words have life was Jessica Robbi Brown. The first person that ever allowed me to experience empathy was Jessica Robbi Brown. The first person that ever fully pursued my friendship was Jessica Robbi Brown. The best thing that ever happened to me at Montreat College, hands down = Jessica Robbi Brown.
There are those people that come into you life and quickly exit. There are those people that you are drawn to and then they quickly fade. And then there are the people that in-captivate you and somehow help explain who you are..as though your whole life you have been using right handed scissors when you are so clearly left handed and then you discover left-handed scissors. They have always existed. Suddenly you simply cannot imagine life with out the correct scissors. Even if you leave them for a while, and start a new journey, you know they are always accessible. They become a part of you because you cannot do anything quite as well with out them.
And then they turn 23 and you are not there and feel awful. Happy Birthday my dear. I am so sorry I am not there to tell you every minute it is your birthday and sing that incredibly annoying and over played Blink 182 song, "what's my age again?".
So my dear, pretend I am there today.
We are wearing crazy hats and dresses with cheetos in the pockets while waiting for the reasons to purchase an oversized, overpriced, and un-environmentally friendly Hummer.
We are drinking horrible wine coolers and talking about how we have changed and remained the same. And somehow we learn a little more about each other.
We are singing dashboard to strangers warning them of the pains in life.
We are in bible study watching Opie love the Lord in a way that is so innocent. "Praise God, knock on wood."
And we are driving everywhere. And stopping everywhere. Big Cows, a pretty river, abandoned houses of socks. And we are spending hours in a thrift store laughing so hard that we forget why we were ever sad.
We are riding bikes around a lake and eating over priced, awful food. And drink blue margaritas.
I am reading out loud to you. And we find the grace of God in the stories we share. We remember that he is good and active. We pray loud. We scream.
We are exploring random towns are pretending to be different people. We are laughing all the time. And eating footlong hotdogs are taking pictures of things that remind us of excitement.
We are getting lost in the long corridors of endless words. And we don't talk because at this point a look says it all.
And I am rescuing you at night from runaway midnight trains. And Ray is there and "We love it."
We get tattoos of images we wish were always with us.
We are on the beach singing come thou font loud and getting out all our frustration of past loves. We are receiving directions to unknown location from extravagant strangers. And we are dancing. Like crazy. And we are happy. We are together.
You are my left handed scissors. Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you for being accessible. Thank you for reminding me that I am loved as I am. And that "all the secrets of fitness and all the fitness he requires is to feel his love for you (me rather)."
Thank you for being silly and serious and letting me make mistakes and keeping me accountable. Thank you for for listening and speaking words in my life. Thank you for loving the things I love. Thank you for being constant. Thank you for you love.
I love you, kid. More than this random, silly, blogging site could explain.
love,
annie
