Eighteen.
Mercy Bailey! You have done some things in eighteen years! But the real truth is that it’s only the beginning for you. There’s nothing but possibility ahead!
Someone asked me yesterday how it felt to have an eighteen year old and my answer was really good. I am not sure what people expect with that question. I feel a little old saying that my kid is an actual adult now but I like having big kids, or grown kids or whatever you are. Either way you are always and forever my baby.
You’ve been busy this year! Like so busy and on the move that it’s hard to pin you down. That is exactly what I wished for you so it has been fun to watch.
You started the year working on the FOOT that it attached to THE LEG and all the therapy. May we never again return to any sort of boot or cast situation because we have all learned DO NOT TIE YOU DOWN! You shed the boot, popped on a shoe and headed to Young Life camp at Sharp Top faster than anyone could turn around because, GOALS. We also have learned DON’T TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN’T DO IT.
You’ve had all the fun this year and done all the things. For the first time in six years you made it an entire twelve months with no surgery. Congratulations on that record and let’s keep it that way!
The last year was such a great sideline event of your life for me because you are the most you that you can ever be. You have played a lot of golf, eaten a lot of food, burned up a lot of gas, and signed up for some things that I wasn’t so sure about but it turned out that you loved it all. You have really put yourself out there and I am impressed. You will be the first to sign up for some work and some serving and helping and some manual labor, and even some kid wrangling events. And, for somebody who loves home so much you sure do enjoy a camp situation. You hate the cold and love your bed, but camp trumps it all.
We did a couple trips to the mountains for some roller coasters, and to Chicago for friends and big beefs, and Boston where we enjoyed a little history, a lot of walking, and watching you eat your way through the city one lobster roll at a time. I figured out the only way to really pin you down is to put you on a plane and feed you fancy food for a week. You will still most definitely ask if we have seen or done it all and at least a hundred times if anyone is ready to go home even if you love the place. I still can’t decide if you really like the swan boats or if you’re making fun of me for making you ride them, but whatever man. One day you’ll thank me for all the things I made you see on these vacations and all the times I made you use public transportation. It will come in handy I promise.
You spent the rest of your summer working, building roofs at SOS, being a camp counselor for a bunch of elementary school boys, fishing and fundraising, working, eating, and driving around town to restaurants to eat some more. You loved every minute of all of them and while it is hardest for me to imagine you managing a bunch of boys in a cabin and keeping up with all their stuff, I am super impressed with that endeavor.
We suffered through the ritual of studio senior pictures together complete with yellowed tuxedo shirt and too big jacket to kick off your senior year - so memorable. It’s funny what people make a big deal in life of versus what you actually experience. That’s probably true for a lot more than senior pictures. I had a hard time having a “moment” when I was thinking about all the people who had previously worn those shirts.
Your game plan for senior year was to strategically plan your work and social schedule around every high school football game and wear the appropriately themed attire. Well done. It was a year of costumes for sure. You took a turtle to prom in your suit pocket and there is not one surprising thing about that to me. Thanks for taking him back home.
I get very few days with just you these days but one of my favorites was when you played in the St. Jude Celebrity Am. I really had the best time and you and your team played so well. The more y’all played the more that team loved you and it was just the most fun to watch. It’s the first time anyone’s ever called me coach and most likely the last, but I loved having you drive me around all day while I ate snacks.
There’s a lot about you that has changed absolutely zero in eighteen years which is just the most fascinating thing about personality. You were the most serious baby with eyebrows that pinched together if I took you in public around people you didn’t know. You could really give some people some looks. You trusted no one and you’ve still got a pretty tight circle which is probably the safest way to be. I’m glad you learned to relax the eyebrows but I’m more glad that you kept the grin because it’s just the best.
The thing about you, Bailey, is that you are the easiest to love and the more people know you the more they love you. You like all kinds of people of all the ages and you will talk to all of them. You’ve got time for them which is really all people want. It seems that they’re all as smitten as I am so you’ve got a pretty big fan club, but I’m still your biggest fan. I usually just introduce myself as “Bailey’s mom” because that’s just easier and it all usually comes back to you anyway.
As the world does because it’s too loud and people talk too much, people assumed you were quiet. which is entirely untrue. It’s just that while everyone has been so busy talking, you watched and took notes in your big brain that stores innumerable amounts of things of your own preference. Your memory is impeccable and you never miss a detail. You have spit out all of those details in a dialogues here and there over the last eighteen years, often while standing on your head or walking in circles around me with a yo-yo or a football, or a baseball that comes flying past my head threatening what few worldly possessions that I kind of like in the living room. You also are really good at interjecting random thoughts in conversation, proving the stream of words and thoughts constantly running through your head may or may not be on topic, and usually isn’t, but is very important and very factual. You have missed nothing, often making me wish you could be a little more flakey. No dice.
You’re an excellent brother and have filled in a time or two when you were concerned with my parenting. At a very early age you would yell, “Where’s Kate? You lost her again!” when we were in public, keeping me humble and in check. For the record, I never lost her but she was busy so I appreciate the watchful eye both then and now. And I think she does too.
You are honest - a straight shooter with the wittiest dry humor that catches me and everyone else off guard. You’re actually hilarious and I really value humor as a character trait. It will take you far. You are endearing and people know it - so do the dogs. All the dogs.
At eighteen you love candy (so much candy) and throwing a baseball and eating ramen and the SEC. You also throw footballs and hit golf balls and still climb the fence to get them out of the neighbors yards. You know sports stats and probably a lot of other stats about who is being traded for or however that works and Oscar loves you the most. You figure everything out. Usually at the last minute. At eighteen is you are going places. You are a wonder of a human in a very unassuming shell and I could not be more proud to be your mom. You also have incredible hair which is a wonder of its own.
I certainly couldn’t have imagined what these eighteen years would bring when I looked at your sweet face in that hospital room for the very first time. But, what it has brought is a lesson in faith, perseverance, and selflessness. They say motherhood is a journey but mine has been a little more like Splash Mountain - a wild ride full of surprises.
It is my greatest honor to launch you as an adult human into this world so all can see what I have always known. You are loved, you are prayed for, and you are going to make a difference just by being exactly who God designed you to be. My wish for you is that you love God and love people, that you look for the good, and when it’s not good, look up.
Happy big eighteen!
Take care of your sister, be on time, wear your retainer, and drive slow.
I love you,
Mom.
“May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you alway know the truth
And see the light surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young.”
- Bob Dylan
No comments:
Post a Comment