the words that carry the hope

• only love can save us all
• thirty before thirty
• [almost] 100 things

08-28-08

correspondence tuesday [seventeen]

yes, i know i skipped last week, and yes, i know this is 2 days late…it’s been an interesting 2 weeks to say the least. i’ve been asking and answering questions that i wasn’t prepared to ask or answer. it’s been a time where i’ve had to literally sit down and write what i know to be true, and go from there. pete says it well here…it’s part of life…and i would rather ask questions than not have any. with that said, here’s correspondence tuesday for this week.

when i met you i thought you were so cool and i was determined to be your friend. i was going through a ‘phase’ that has apparently lasted the past 8 years, because after a lifetime of trying to be ‘normal’ (whatever that means) i was finally embracing the parts of me that were different. and now, i guess, the different is just as much a part of me as the normal. my different is now normal, and you helped shape that. i was intrigued by weird hair, edgy clothes, music no one had ever heard of, art…a world that was not my own. i wanted to make that world my own, though, and in my 20 year old brain that meant hanging out with your family. and you let me. you welcomed me into the folds of your lives like i belonged there, and i can’t imagine a time when i didn’t. [interjection: i realize while i'm writing this that you are prob. the only ones in the world that will even begin to truly understand what i mean, and that's the beauty of it].

i’ve seen you through 2 additions to your family, deaths, a college graduation (finally!), friendships both old/new and lost/restored, something like 5 pets (probably more), 3 moves, 1 house purchase, hairstyle changes, job changes, marriage changes, life changes….the list goes on and on.
you’ve watched me grow up and become independent, you’ve seen me become…well, me. you’ve stood beside me, walked behind me, listened, talked, called me out, encouraged. you’ve shown up for the important parts of my life from college graduation to my re-entrance into America from my Chinese adventure. You’ve cried when I left and rejoiced upon my return. You’ve participated in my ventures and believed in me.

this weekend is part of those changes that i’ve been anticipating. you are currently packing up the last of your worldly possessions that you didn’t sell and soon they will be loaded into a u-haul and you’ll leave tennessee behind. my hope is that you will leave a lot behind, actually, because not all of the past ten years is necessary to pack – i say we leave that baggage, okay? and you’re headed toward something, instead of running away from anything. it’s something different and soon the different will become your new normal. and the people in texas won’t know your stories and your pasts and where you came from to get to this point, and that’s partly a good thing because your past doesn’t have to be your platform and you can choose what you share. but secretly, i’m glad i know everything – and i mean everything, because you have all trusted me with the depths of you – because within your family is a story of redemption, of being lost and being found, of something beautiful growing from ashes. and i see it and i’m so proud to say i was – i am – part of it. part of you.

tomorrow i will fly down south, jump in a u-haul with you, and ride 12 hours to texas with no CD player and a radio that may or may not work. it might just be the most uninterrupted time i’ve spent with you and i don’t take that lightly. the beautiful thing about it is that several people are responsible for funding this adventure – i haven’t had to pay a dime. 4 of the people closest to me knew how important it was that i make this transition with you, and have paid for my flight, my transportation to and from the airport, and my food. and i guess that’s God’s way of affirming that i’m a member of the family, and where you go i will go too. and that transition, though rough, doesn’t mean the end of anything, just a beginning.

love
elizabeth

08-12-08

correspondence tuesday [sixteen]

when you were born i thought that mom and dad had you just for me…mom was the surrogate but you were really my child. i supposedly wasn’t so keen on the idea that other people wanted to hold you – you were mine. and i’ve believed that ever since. he hurt you? i will kill him, you are mine. need help with homework? no problem, since you are mine. college scheduling got you confused? i’ll take care of it; after all, you’re mine. need some money? of course – you are mine. some would call me possessive. i call it fiercely protective.

we never had any “sibling rivalry.” i don’t even know what that means. i genuinely wanted more for you than i wanted for myself, though mom and dad tried (still try) their best to make everything even. if dad said no, you asked mom. if mom said no, you asked me. i usually said yes. i realize that this getting everything you wanted thing was probably not the best for your growth as an independent adult, but if i could just let you hold on to childhood a little longer, to not have responsibilities, to not understand what living in the real world meant, then i would have done my job. some would call me an enabler. i call it supportive.

the past year i have gotten to know you as a person instead of my little sister. when i describe you to other people, the only way i can try to explain is by saying, “we are so alike, but we are so different.” like me, you are a good conversationalist. like me, you are a true and loyal friend. like me, you love deeply. and like you, i have great style (you definitely had it first, mine was a long time coming!) but while we are the same in so many things, we approach life differently. you possess many character traits that i didn’t teach you. so many thoughts and opinions that i don’t agree with. and though i love most of your clothes, there are a few pieces i wouldn’t be caught dead wearing (and i know the feeling is mutual!)

you will be 25 years old in 4 days. i know that 25 is scary – and you’ve mentioned how unexcited you are about this age – but trust me, 25 is a good year. life just gets better the older i get, and i hope the same is true for you. i love to spend time with you more than anyone in the world – you just get me like no one else ever has. i’m so proud of who you’re becoming. and i’m excited to watch you as you grow (without my help) into a strong and beautiful woman.

happy birthday, little sister.

love,
elizabeth

07-29-08

correspondence tuesday [fifteen]

for the past couple of years, I’ve tried to set aside time on tuesdays to write letters or send packages to the important people in my life who don’t live near me. i decided to bring it to the blog and write to an anonymous [important] person each tuesday. this is the fifteenth edition – enjoy!

07-17-08

correspondence tuesday [fourteen]

for the past couple of years, I’ve tried to set aside time on tuesdays to write letters or send packages to the important people in my life who don’t live near me. i decided to bring it to the blog and write to an anonymous [important] person each tuesday. this is the fourteenth edition – enjoy!

[bring your sad face, you might need it]

i have never had a friend like you. i walked into this job determined that it would be different from my last [miserable] job, and made a conscious effort to do things completely opposite this time. therefore, i vowed not to get caught up in the personal lives of my co-workers, to keep them at arm’s length. see, if you don’t make anything personal, you don’t have to take anything personally. if i don’t share my thoughts, feelings, and emotions with you, you’re not responsible for them when i get hurt.

however, despite my neuroticism (including but not limited to my overuse of hand sanitizer) you quickly became my favorite person in the office. i found myself telling you things i didn’t share with most other people – venting about whatever predicament i found myself in, telling you stories about my life and how i grew up and who i was before i moved to new york. i shared with you about REVO and the planning that was involved, and you listened and supported and even showed up. we discussed religion and politics and celebrity gossip and everything in between.

i think my favorite part of my friendship with you is the arguments. not the ones where we’re actually irritated – those have been few and far between – but the banter that makes us laugh more than anything. if there’s anything we’re good at it’s arguing a point, even if we agree with each other. sure, it might be arguing for the sake of argument, but the truth is that we’re both compassionate people who are able to step back and see another point of view. this speaks volumes about character.

i don’t want you to leave. the only good thing about all of this is that i probably won’t get in trouble for laughing too loudly anymore. okay, well, besides the fact that you’re going to change the world by serving some underprivileged children in India…i mean that’s pretty awesome too. but that’s it, only 2 reasons. maybe you could reconsider?

seriously though – i could not have made it this far without you. i don’t know what life is going to look like when you’re not here, but i do know my thighs are going to return to their pre-working out state because i don’t have someone to force me to go to the gym anymore. thank you for making the past year at this company more enjoyable. thank you for teaching me, inspiring me, loving me, and letting me borrow your mascara. more than all that, thank you for sharing yourself with me and for allowing me to share myself with you.

you will be missed.

07-15-08

correspondence tuesday [thirteen]

for the past couple of years, I’ve tried to set aside time on tuesdays to write letters or send packages to the important people in my life who don’t live near me. i decided to bring it to the blog and write to an anonymous [important] person each tuesday. this is the thirteenth edition – enjoy!

while twelve isn’t really a big number, twelve years sure is a long time. It’s almost half my life, really, and that’s pretty strange. Three years from now it WILL be half my life that I’ve known you, and in four years I will have known you longer than I have not known you.

you and I met at a summer camp at the weird, awkward age of 15. I’m pretty sure you were singing some song about peeing in the pool, and I’m also pretty sure I thought that was hilarious. everyone has his or her own summer camp “romance” stories, but I felt like – and still feel like – ours was different. there is an invisible Hand that has tied us together throughout the years, and even when we’ve tried to sever that tie (and let’s be honest, there have been a couple of times) we couldn’t.

we met right after our freshman year in high school, and I would still say that year was the hardest year of my life – with the second hardest year being the one when i moved to new york city and was alone for the first time. in such instances, our Creator provides guideposts for us…people we meet along the way to swim beside us.and as only One who knows best can do, He provided you for me and me for you. after camp (all 4 days of it – which is so funny to me now, because I was ‘in love’ after 4 days?) we talked on the phone for hours and hours and wrote letters – LETTERS – to each other (which, in retrospect, were hard to read because YOU HAVE HORRIBLE HANDWRITING). i don’t even remember what we talked about – 15, and then 16, and even 17 year old stuff I imagine. i believe that your words and strength carried me through the turmoil that was high school.

fast forward to 2003 when you met the woman who is now your wife – the one who saved your life in both literal and metaphorical ways. i love that it was so important to you that i meet her – as if you knew what was ahead. just don’t forget that she and i make a great team in tough situations, and that’s all i’m gonna say about that. and good thing she’s awesome, because i get to love her too, and the “you” is now plural.

and now…now, we’re wading through everything life throws at us. we haven’t lived in the same city for years but we’ve managed to remain close. if it’s important to you (plural), it’s important to me, and i know it’s mutual. and let’s not forget that baby, the one i have yet to meet, the one who has my name as her middle name on her birth certificate. you know you’re growing up when your friends start having babies, and you know they think really highly of you when they name their babies after you. it’s an honor, one i don’t take lightly.

i’m thankful that my 15-year-old version of “romance” turned into something much deeper and more meaningful than we could know at the time. but mostly, i’m thankful for the One who knew that sometimes you just need people to swim with who have been there since diving in.

even if they do pee in the pool.

love,
elizabeth

06-30-08

correspondence tuesday [twelve]

for the past couple of years, I’ve tried to set aside time on tuesdays to write letters or send packages to the important people in my life who don’t live near me. i decided to bring it to the blog and write to an anonymous [important] person each tuesday. this is the twelfth edition – enjoy!

in the summer of 2000 i wanted to work at a camp, and the one where i got a job was in PA. so you took about a week off of work and decided to drive me up there, with the intention of spending time together and stopping at various places along the way.
i wish i had written everything down. i wish i kept a journal then like i do now. but it remains one of my favorite times with you, and i’m so glad we took that trip.
there was the long car ride, where I enjoyed talking to you so much i didn’t want to sleep. i had a lil gray pillow should i decide to do so, but we talked and talked and talked about life and love and everything else. i had just finished my freshman year of college and discovered i really didn’t know much of anything about life. you had just been through a rough time in your own life, and now i realize you were probably thinking the same thing about yourself. nonetheless, we had probably our first conversation as friends instead of parent and child.
we had no agenda. no expectations. this is how, instead of heading to the Hershey museum once we got to PA, we decided to hit up the theme park instead. i love that about you, your spontaneity. probably where i get it.
and then we got to spend a few days in new york city. i didn’t know that it would change the course of my life as i knew it, that i would fall irrevocably in love with this city and all that it embodied. i didn’t know that regular people like us could see shows on Broadway, but of course you had done your research, and surprisingly i won lottery tickets to RENT on the first try. and every morning you would head down to the bakery across the street and get us breakfast and have it waiting for me when i woke up. you have always been an early riser, and i can be a late sleeper, and i can’t imagine waiting as patiently as you did for me to get up and get going so we could explore. so you could show me the magic of new york.
and another memory, one that isn’t so happy. though i have now reconciled it in my heart, it took a while for me to stop feeling guilty.
we were walking down the street, and i was hungry, and 19, and i picked a fight with you, and in the typical teenage fashion, i whirled around and walked off.
i don’t even remember why i was mad, but i was, and i thought the best thing to do was remove myself from the situation. and now, in my wise old age of 27, i can’t fathom how you were feeling just standing there watching me walk away from you. you knew it was your job to take care of me, to shelter me, to be my father. but you let me go.
i only walked around the block once, but it took forever. i was scared that i wouldn’t be able to find you, that you would be mad, that you would have left me and i would be all alone. in new york city.
but when i rounded the corner, you were there. still standing in the same place i left you. waiting for me to return, because you knew i would.
everything was fine and we went to eat some pizza. you never brought it up again, but i never forgot.
you are a good dad, and you are becoming good friend. it hasn’t always been easy, this transition from parent to friend, but we’ve stuck with it, and learned from our mistakes. it’s good. and i will never forget that even when i walk away, or run away, you will never leave me all alone in new york city or wherever our travels may take us (to the ends of the earth).

you will let me go, but when i round the corner, you will still be standing there, waiting.

love,
elizabeth

** edited to add my dad’s response to this post:

What a great memory you have for details!
Some of those had slipped my mind but I can still see your face when you saw all those roller coasters [at the Hershey Theme Park].
Remember the Statue of Liberty from our window as the fog lifted?
Kate Spade.
The afternoon in Times Square when you said, “Dad. You don’t understand. I have to live here someday.” And I knew you would.

Love,
Dad

06-23-08

correspondence tuesday [eleven]

- Piano Song by Juliana Theory, because sometimes other people say it better than I can

06-17-08

correspondence tuesday [ten]

when we first met 8 years ago, i was enthralled with you: the bright lights, the shimmering metal, the multitudes of people, your intricate public transportation system, times square, the dizzying height of the world trade center, RENT on Broadway…everything i saw. The day i stepped out of Penn Station and looked up, the first thought i had was, “home. this is home.” and six years later, after graduating college and a brief stint overseas, it was time.
i packed everything i thought i needed in 2 suitcases and got on a plane. the first 6 months were hard so hard that i almost left you for another city, for somewhere i thought was better. somehow i was able to fall in love with the real you – to see past the lights and the metal and the crowds and the perception that your outward facade was all that there was to you. the real you just makes all of that more beautiful, more inviting. i still love times square and broadway. public transportation is the best thing ever, especially these days. and my heart beats fast every time i look at your skyline. walking across your bridges is one of my favorite things to do, just to see you from a different perspective. you have so much to offer, and because of you i have learned so much about me.
i can’t believe it’s been two years. oh, 2 years. words just don’t do it justice.

happy 2 years, new york.

06-10-08

correspondence tuesday [nine]

06-04-08

correspondence tuesday [eight]

for the past couple of years, I’ve tried to set aside time on tuesdays to write letters or send packages to the important people in my life who don’t live near me. i decided to bring it to the blog and write to an anonymous [important] person each tuesday. this is the eighth edition – enjoy!