A Box of Stories
Last night Billy and the kids gave me a box of words filled with stories, written in love from the dearest people I know: friends from all over, wishing me their best. Billy, hoping to get 50 letters, coordinated the gesture with those he could locate in my email accounts. He overachieved his goal.
I am beyond weepy about the whole thing.
My dad was brief and I can hear his voice as I read his words.
By the time I made it through my family and in-law notes I was a blubbering mess. I can't believe the people I'm related to. They are UH-mazing.
Sweet Lindsay wrote me a haiku which brought back the humor.
There were doodles and stories; remembrances and future wishes.
There were prayers, scripture quotes, and wisdom which makes me realize my friends are ridiculously smart.
There were a handful of things I won't discuss in public and at least one fact I seriously question (I didn't ever, EVER wear blue eye shadow!! Did I...).
My new friend Matt (the Brit living in our basement) wrote me a poem about my ability to make Yorkshire Pudding and commented about being a "half-ton" now.
Note- I'm not googling the meaning of "half-ton" because I want to think it's a compliment...
But mostly there were stories. Lots and lots of stories.
There were unintended adventures, near-death experiences, travels, book discussions, work hijinks, and general shenanigans. And apparently, though I fed a bunch of you, only Carrot Cake, Taco Night, and Cornbread got shout-outs
I gobbled up every last narrative and was touched by every single thought.
And I cried the ugly (but still tears of joy) cry.
I am so deeply moved.I feel so deeply loved. Thank you friends! You are the best. I'll reach out to you guys individually, but I'm pacing myself and trying to give my puffy eyeballs an occasional break.
And mostly thank you, Billy, for pulling this together. You've outdone yourself again. Don't think for a second I can top you when you turn 50!