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