My Lottie,
And now you are an adult. I laugh as I type that, though,
because, as we have discussed, you’ll really always be my baby. In my mind and
heart, you’re three or maybe four years old, listening to stories with
wide-eyed wonder on your face asking us, “Whass gonna happen?”
The last six months or so have been a whirlwind of activity.
Between working, school, SDMT, and socializing, you have been busy. It makes me
so happy to watch you live your best life. I know that things get crazy and overwhelming sometimes, and I’m proud of you for learning to
say no to things when you need to protect your peace. You’re a caretaker at
heart, and I know you don’t like letting people down; I think it’s great to
know your limitations and to realize that it’s okay to turn down offers to rest
or just because you don’t feel like it. It’s an enviable quality that many
adults don’t have, let alone a newly-minted adult.
I know that ending something can be bittersweet and scary;
however, I think you’re ready to put high school in your rearview mirror. It
was a rough patch when you had pneumonia and mono at the same time. You missed
some senior activities and so much school. You persevered and made up all the
work while also doing the work that was happening at that time in your classes.
Honestly, you rocked it. Overall, high school hasn’t been terrible, and you
have done a lot of maturing. It’s time, though. It’s time for you to move on to
your next journey to the University of Wisconsin Eau-Claire. I am going to miss
you desperately, and it doesn’t help that you have already been teasing me
about that for months. But as much as I’ll miss you, I’m excited to watch you
take flight. You have the skill and the drive to get whatever you want out of
life, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll do. Promise me that you’ll make time
for fun, too. (I think Dad would want me to add not too much fun,
though.)
When you’re up north next school year, I hope you realize
that you’re capable of so many great things. I know that being away from home
for the first extended period of time can be scary, but you’re up to the
challenge. You know you can always call us or come home any time you need to,
although I have a feeling you’re going to adapt to college life quite well. If
you don’t, though, it’s not the end of the world. I hope you know in your soul
that Dad and I always have your back.
You’re good at that, having people’s backs. You’re a
fiercely loyal friend, sister, and daughter. If people mess with someone you
love, it’s curtains for them. You’re not a pushover, though, and you expect
that same loyalty in return. I appreciate is that you know that you deserve to
be treated well, and you have high expectations of your friends. I have watched
you learn that all people are fallible, and there is always a time and place
for grace. These are qualities that will also come in handy with your eventual
role in geriatric physical therapy or whatever career path you decide to
follow. You will handily make any job your own with your humor, your work ethic,
and your understanding.
You make us all laugh every single day. More importantly, you know how to laugh at yourself. Having a good sense of humor and the ability to not take things so seriously are true assets in life. Things aren't always fun and games, but if you can create fun in your life, you absolutely should.
I’m forever proud of your strength, your values, and your confidence. I look at you, and I am in awe of your accomplishments, and more importantly, your kindness and empathy. Simply put, to me, you are magic. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise.
Happy 18th birthday, baby.
I love you the mostest,
Mom
