Dear Bailey,
Good gravy you are seventeen!! I cannot be sure why seventeen feels so much older but it does. Maybe it’s because by all the standards of the world you are one year away from being an actual adult. Which means I better get busy on some things or I’m going to have to send your sister with you wherever you end up. Also, it means that I am actually WAY older than I am in my mind. Plus, now everyone in this house is closer to an adult than an actual child. Just so you know I still sometimes see you as the baby I held on the day you were born.
This year for me has kind of felt like more than one, but I think some years are like that. You’ve been a busy guy!
You started the year working on the new leg and you ended it working on the foot, but you’ve really packed some things in the middle - which in life, the middle is really what matters. Good for you for making that middle count!
You are an official driver. With a car. I flew to Atlanta and drove the car of your dreams home. Actually it was the college car of my own dreams and I loved every minute of thinking for about six hours that I was back in college and had the world at my fingertips and loved the thought of giving you that freedom too. Although that thought also totally made me panic. I’ve never felt more out of control than when in the passenger seat using my fake brake while you drove around town telling me things like “I see it” while I sweated in silence. For the record, the driving is where you actually realize as a parent that the tables are about to turn and that very baby you birthed is now making life decisions behind the wheel of a basic death trap on wheels. Ok that’s a little much but it’s true. I’ve calmed down a little, but I still hold my breath a tiny bit until you’re back in the driveway. Anyway, I still brought the car home, filled it up with gas at Buc-ees and bought you the good gas station candy too, because only the best.
It snowed. Like the most snow certainly in your lifetime and possibly in mine. We are still living in “that time the world went crazy” so because of that situation, school still had to happen too (and work). It felt a little like an experiment to see how long they could keep your attention on a zoom call while THE MOST SNOW IN YOUR LIFE was outside. I think we failed the experiment. I spent a fair amount of time driving on sketchy impassable roads and standing at the bottom of hills freezing my tail off while watching you and your friends climb up a large hill and sled down for hours at a time. You’re welcome.
School was interesting. I referred to it as “sometimes” school because sometimes you went and sometimes you didn’t based on the first letter of your last name. You have done every type possible due to all the surgery and the pandemic - homebound, hybrid, virtual.
You spent a lot of your sophomore year in the church basement “study hall” throwing a football, playing ping pong, and eating candy, while learning NFL stats during actual school hours. Sometimes you even knocked off early and went fishing. This is not something I’m super proud of and when your Spanish teacher called me on my cell phone asking why you shut your computer on her, I had to make something up. I do think you learned some things. Non academic things most likely, but those will carry you maybe further in life. I also learned that you can’t teach motivation, so thank you for that lesson. For the record, you have turned it around this year and I really do appreciate that.
You got a job. Like, all on your own without me saying, “get a job.” You’ve maintained it and made your own money and paid for your own gas and you’re so crazy independent that while I learned that maybe I can’t teach motivation, you are surely motivated for what you want. And, apparently you can make a decent pizza.
You got a haircut. You let your hair grow for over a year for no particular reason - so much hair. And then about the time you decided to get it cut, your buddy Chip Gaines, decided to cut his too to raise money for St. Jude and asked you to be there. You decided you’d cut yours too if it would help raise more money. So, in all of the ways that we can’t make any of this up, we flew to Texas, you went fishing with Chip and then y’all got a haircut. That haircut brought in over a half million dollars for St. Jude. And your great big sweet smile with that fresh haircut was all over social media, the news, (and in People magazine). I learned that God will use whoever and whatever He chooses (even hair) to show off His work. I’m super proud of you for saying yes. And you’ve got great hair.
You saw the Grand Canyon. We all did, actually. I am not sure what you’ll remember later from that trip, but I am certain you won’t forget the kayaking experience - never again. Your parents are not adventurous or outdoorsy, but we gave it a go and I really don’t regret it. I will remember watching you and Kate look over the canyon for the first time and I will remember that you talked everyone into staying for the sunset that didn’t really happen because I wanted to and we might regret it later. That’s the thing about you, is that you’ll do whatever at your own expense because it makes someone else happy. I’m sure you will also remember your parents trying to load two kayaks on top of a rental SUV with absolutely zero business doing so. I learned to plan ahead, pay for the guide, and if you don’t, do it anyway because you’ll still be glad you did later but you’ll be a lot more tired.
You went to Young Life Camp in the North Georgia mountains and loved it. I heard very little about it but I saw a few pictures and you looked as happy as a clam. There’s nothing that thrills me more than seeing you live your life and making it your own. I also know that if you’re outside and in some mountain/lake/water situation, you’re going to be the happiest. I’m glad they didn’t have a bunch of dogs or you may have never come home.
You and your daddy went to Omaha and watched the Bulldogs. It was a last minute pivot of a trip where we were headed to Atlanta and changed those plans when we learned they were headed to the College World Series. I told him that if he didn’t take you then I was because this was once in a lifetime. You were at camp when they actually won the National Championship but let me just say that you invested blood, sweat, and tears and a whole lot of stress relieving baseball pitches in our backyard between innings during that season. I am so very glad you got to go.
You’ve been fishing, you’ve played golf, you’ve spent a lot of time eating your way through town because I also realized driving means drive thru. It’s been the year of curfews and dates and Invisalign (sorry we missed the tween braces phase - we were busy), and fishing, and throwing a football into all the decorative pillows of my house, and blitz balls at the fence outside, and eating cereal at midnight. You absolutely know more sports statistics than anyone I know and even managed to rattle them off accurately to an operating room full of doctors and nurses under anesthesia in your last surgery. Impressive.
It’s also been a year where I’ve tried very hard to keep my mouth shut and let you make decisions. (I said I tried, so just know I could have said more but I also know that after the first five words or so, you’ve stopped listening). And, really that’s working out just fine. The greatest gift as a mom is really to be able to share you with the world and let other people see what I see in you. And so far, you’ve got rave reviews. This parenting gig is not for the weak, though, and neither is going to bed at midnight while I wait for you to get home. I’ve already told you I don’t know what I’m doing, just doing the best I can with what I know. Thank you for your patience and for coming home on time.
Bailey, my wish for you is to live life, to love people, to love God, and have fun doing it. You have managed to inspire more people than you will ever know by just being exactly who you are. You have proven over and over that you don’t need a ton of words to be a leader and that sometimes the very way you show up can be inspiring. You, my son, are so loved by so many.
But, especially by your mom. I’m your biggest fan and also the luckiest.
May your golf balls go straight and your teeth too.
Happy 17th birthday, Bailey!
Love,
Mom
No comments:
Post a Comment