Dear Christian,
Now that you're back from your mission, I need to take advantage and tell you all of the things I didn't know how to say before you left. I know you will soon embark on your next adventure because you are too full of life to stay anywhere for too long, and you won't be afraid to take risks and run wildly into whatever the future has in store for you.
On the day you were born, not only was I blessed with a best friend, but also with someone who added color, spice, and meaning to my life. As a new mother, I have spent countless hours rocking my baby at night, and even though everyone says he looks just like me, all I see is you. When Emmett was born, memories I didn't know I had rose to the surface, and even though I was only 4 years old when mom placed you in my arms, I remember what I felt because it is exactly what I feel as I hold my son. The overwhelming urge to protect, to care for, to nurture, and to be whatever you needed me to be was present even back then, and as a little girl I wanted to shield you from any danger that came your way. As an adult, not much has changed in that respect.
I don't know when the hell this happened, but you're grown up now. I thought you would be my baby brother forever, but you've just spent 2 years in remote African villages, you speak 5 languages, and you have touched the lives of countless people. At 21 years old you have had crazier life experiences than most of the people I know, and I could not be more proud of you for that. My "protection" is the last thing you need, so instead, I offer my full support.
I want you to be wild and reckless. I want to get a 2am phone call because you lost your wallet during your impromptu cross-country road trip and you're stuck on the side of the road somewhere in Nebraska fending off a badger. I want you to show up at my door on a random Thursday looking for a place to stash your motorcycle so mom won't know about it. I want to wake up one morning to find that you and three friends have snuck in through the side window and are sitting at my kitchen table eating all of my cereal. I want you to call me on the 31st of the month saying you don't have money for rent tomorrow. I want you to drop off a basked full of horned lizards telling me they're the remains of a biology project gone horribly wrong. Whatever it is you need, I'll be here with open arms or an open wallet or an open fridge, depending on what's appropriate at the time. Never be afraid to ask for help, and never be afraid that it's too much... that's what I'm here for. I promise you my lifelong loyalty, devotion, respect, encouragement, advice, and unconditional love.
Someday, you'll meet a girl. Someday soon, because you're too damn charismatic and likable for your own good. Girls have been attached to you from the moment you entered High School, and it's a wonder you survived girlfriendless for almost two years. Teenagers are supposed to be painfully awkward, but I guess nobody told you because you never were. You've returned no longer a teenager, and have got way too much swagger and you're not holding back, so girls beware.
I need you to know that it's different this time. You're not juts looking for a girlfriend, you're looking for someone who has the potential to be a lot more permanent than that. Like, eternity kind of permanent. Even though you've just spent 2 years teaching others about that eternity, it's going to be scary as hell when you think you've found your own. It's okay to be scared. Actually, I want you to be scared. I want you to be cautious, calculating, and to really ponder and pray about what you're doing when you think you've found her. Right this second, I feel like no girl out there is good enough for my baby brother, but I know that's not really true. I know that you're way too important for God not to have someone freaking special out there for you to find. Go get her, and I'll sit here and try really hard not to be envious of your time. And remember, don't look for perfect or else you'll never find her. Look past "perfect" and find the potential for eternal happiness instead.
Lastly, I want to say Thank You. Thank you for 21 years of redundant inside jokes. Thank you for sharing that particular sense of humor that I have only ever found in you. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for keeping my secrets and allowing me to keep yours. Thank you for changing the oil in my car. Thank you for that one time you tried to teach me how to drive stick and we failed. Thank you for being super enthusiastic about food. Thank you for wearing that dress shirt at my wedding, even though you said you looked like a goldfish. Thank you for those 3 hours of driving around town getting sidetracked Harold and Kumar style even though we were just going to buy strawberries. Thank you for 108 P-Day emails, no matter how boring they got towards the end. Thank you for letting me be Kirby every single time we played Super Smash Bros. Thank you for the high-pitched singing of "Hey, Soul Sister" during the time your voice was changing. Thank you for introducing me to Lindsey Sterling and The Piano Guys. Thank you for being my support system when I want to vent and not making a big deal about it. Thank you for getting kicked out of band in high school, because it makes such a good story. Thank you for being straight up honest and never sugarcoating things. Thank you because no matter how annoying I became, the worst thing I ever got out of you was a "Dammit Damaris." Thank you for teaching me that even the most unpleasant jobs, like cleaning out the chicken coop, are made bearable if you have someone doing it along with you. Thank you for teaching me how to properly smile at a camera by demonstrating how to "show your teeth". Thank you for hundreds of "awkward hugs" that really aren't awkward at all. Thank you because your favorite "letter" is "the squiggly next to the 1" (~) and that always makes me freaking smile like an idiot. Thank you for always making me use a butter knife on butter. Thank you for killing cockroaches for me. Thank you for serving a mission. Thank you for being humble, friendly, outgoing, and never taking life too seriously. Thank you for being the kind of person that I hope to mold my son around someday. Thank you for letting us choose you, and for choosing us to be your family.
Welcome home, lil buddy.
Love always,
-d.
