It was about 29 years ago when my brother picked me up at Chinook Middle School, and as we drove away we saw you walking.  I said “Hey!  That’s my friend Angela” so Jeff pulled over and offered you a ride home.  As we traveled along you gave Jeff directions to your house and I kept saying things like “Wow!  You walk this whole way home???  This is long ways!!!”  You responded with something like “It’s okay.  It’s not that far.”
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After we dropped you off and drove away Jeff scolded me for pointing out something that might have made you feel bad.  What Jeff nor I understood at that point in time, you have never been someone who has felt sorry for yourself.  You have always been someone who embraces life with curiosity, acceptance, grace and courage.  
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Last night as I was thinking about your birthday I tried to mentally prepare what I wanted to write in a Facebook post, but as the memories grew I knew a Facebook post would not adequately support the words that spilled from my heart.  Yes, we have memories.  Many of them.   I could fill pages and pages with all of my favorite memories.  But as I think about you, it’s not just about the memories.  It’s about all the ways in which I admire and love my dear friend, Angela.

​Our middle school days were full of sunny afternoons swimming in your pool. In high school we laced up our white leather Keds and stood hip to hip in the high kick drill team line.  Remember our freshman year drill performance at the state competition?  The one with the ladders.   Oh…I know.  How could anyone possibly forget?  What I remember the most, was how you held the corner of a second tier ladder in the palm of your hand.  A ladder had been misplaced and without your support, the pyramid of ladders would have collapsed.  Our drill team mate who stood on the top of the pyramid would have been seriously hurt.  This was you Ang.  This has always been you.  The girl who will cares so deeply for her friends, she will do almost anything to support them in their time of need. 

​After graduation we packed up our bags and walked through the cobblestone streets of Europe.  It was an adventure, a trip of a lifetime I will remember forever.  Shortly after our trip to Europe you laced up your combat boots and left for army boot camp.  I remember you telling me about the requirements and how it would help pay for school.  You approached it with logic and pragmatism, but mainly you faced it with a bravery I could only admire.  In my wildest dreams, I have NEVER had the level of the courage you do.

When you were finished with the army you traded your combat boots for high heels.  I began a family and we drifted in and out of contact over the years.  Every so often we’d pick up the phone and reconnect. It always felt like I was coming home when you and I talked, no matter how much time had passed.   

​On one particular phone call I vividly remember cleaning my daughter’s bedroom as we talked.  You told me about your dream to become a yoga teacher and own a studio.  I don’t think I even knew what downward facing dog was at that point in time, but I could hear it in your voice.  Your passion.  Your love.  You wanted to trade in your stilettos for bare feet and a yoga mat. 

And now, here you are.  Not only did you build your yoga studio, but you built you built a community, a place of love, acceptance, healing.   You used your strength, tenacity, creativity and courage to create a special place for so many.  You are a gift who keeps on giving.

How perfect is it that your birthday falls on the most contentious election day in our history?  I think it’s beautiful and the perfect juxtaposition. Our country feels divided by ugly rhetoric and negativity.  Yet, all I can think about is how we get to celebrate the birthday of someone who exemplifies acceptance, patience, understanding, curiosity, courage and love.  These are all the characteristics our fellow citizens will need in the coming years.

Thank you for being the friend who inspires me to be a better person.  You are my sister by choice.  You have and always will be my guiding light.  My home.
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Happy Birthday my beautiful friend.  

I’m sorry this post is so late.  I had to work most of the day to pay for my son’s college booze, I mean books.   When I awoke this morning my first thought was of Austin.  This is nothing new.  Most mornings I wake up my first thoughts are of my children. 

It’s hard to put into words how I feel on this incredibly special day.  Nineteen years sounds like a lifetime ago, but holding my son in my arms for the very first time feels like it was only yesterday.  He came into this world with a fierce temper and lungs the size of Texas.  Over the years the lungs quieted and the temper subdued.   But his heart….his heart continued to grow and it has been his guiding light ever since.   

When I look at my son I humbly ask myself “What have I done to deserve this amazing child?”  As a parent I cannot claim all the ownership over why he is so special.  It was part parenting, mainly God with some luck sprinkled in.  We’ve been blessed beyond measure by His gracious gift.

From the moment we become parents we begin our job of raising our children into being responsible adults who will positively make their mark in this world.  Right around their first birthday we start to ween them off the bottle and the pacifier.  Over the next couple birthdays we teach them how to feed and dress themselves.  Around five and six years old we begin by helping them do their homework, and then over the years we teach them ways in which they can manage it on their own.
  
They slept in our arms, moved to their cribs and eventually a bed of their own.  By sixteen we have taught them to drive a car until one day they drive away to begin the life you imagined the moment you heard their first heartbeat.

We instill life lessons regarding the value of money knowing one day they will need these skills to take care of their own families.  We try to remove most obstacles from their path, and only leave the ones that will teach them important lessons about struggle and consequences.  Within a very short span we have groomed our children to be independent beings who can survive and thrive on their own.

Self admittedly, sometimes as parents we forget to prepare ourselves how to let go. 

This was the first year my son was not with me on his birthday.  We face-timed and I learned all the ways in which he was celebrating his special day.  As much as I wish I could give him a birthday hug and cook him a birthday meal, I felt joy listening to him tell me about all the wonderful people in his life who made him feel loved today.  With a heart as big as his, I’m not surprised. 

This picture was taken on Austin’s first birthday.  I had attended class at Seattle University earlier in the day, but cut class early to bake a cake in our tiny Beacon Hill home for the party that night.  I worked part time and I was finishing up my senior year of classes.  Life felt busy and challenging. 

Regardless of the day to day struggle, I felt more joy in my heart than words can convey.  Our home was small, our budget was tight but my purpose was clear.  Raise this boy with all the love I have in my heart and it will take him to the places only a parent can dream of.
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This second picture was taken the day we dropped him off at college.  Holding close and letting go all at the same time. 

This is the story of a mother and her son. A mother who couldn’t be more proud of the 19 year old boy who has given her life so much purpose.  

Happy Birthday Texas.