Nine

To my dear, sweet Blythe Kathleen,

I'm always at a loss for where to begin these little letters to you. I'm at a loss because you are the first of all the birthdays in our house, kicking off another season of everyone turning a year older. I'm also at a loss because every year I am stunned by how much older you are, and how much I continue to enjoy your presence at every age. And I'm at a loss because you have 948 different interests and loves and passions and things you enjoy and it's hard to even know where to begin! 

It's hard to to start a letter this year, I suppose, without talking about what you experienced and how you handled the past. Days before your birthday last year, Covid shut down our country. It shut down your school, your church...pretty much everything. If you look back at your letter last year I only mentioned it briefly [and I referred to it as the only name we called it then "the coronavirus"], because we all naively thought/hoped it would just be for a little while. We thought surely that, even if we missed things throughout the summer, that this school year-- your 3rd grade year-- would be "normal." We were wrong. Luckily, unlike a lot of kids, you were able to attend school in person all year, with a lot of modifications. You took it all in stride. You were so excited to just BE there, with your friends. The first day of school you came home and were literally doing cartwheels while your mouth never stopped moving telling me about your day. You were buzzing with energy and excitement to be back with your people after 5 months. 

You have shared lately that it's been hard, expressing your dislike for wearing masks and not getting to have as much access to things and people in the building. You have a little prayer journal and one day you wrote to God, telling him these discomforts of yours, but on the same page you prayed for a friend of yours that doesn't know Jesus. And that's the best way I can describe how you've handled this: you've acknowledged it's no fun and not what you choose, but have had an eye to more important things than the fact that wearing a mask is uncomfortable. We could all learn from you: keep our eyes on the Kingdom, the rest is details. 

In the midst of the shutdown we got to do a lot as just our family of six, and it was truly a beautiful time despite the circumstances that forced it. We snuck in so many days to the river, trails, and lakes around us. Watching you in nature, bare feet running through sand and mud, water dripping from your fingers, is always fun for me. In our current read aloud there was a line that struck me last night: "Children and nature are very close together, and often nature's silence can do more to heal angry, unhappy children than any human words can." And while I would rarely, if ever, describe you as angry or unhappy, I would say that I can see nature's silence working in you to heal things when you are out in it. You've been this way since you were quite small. I think there is something about being in creation that taps into your creative nature, connects you to the Creator, in a way that soothes and excites you all at once. 

This year your hobbies have included but are not limited to: knitting, reading, riding bikes, reading, piano [you've got a knack for it!], reading, legos, reading, drawing, reading, macramé, reading, math, reading, talking, reading, writing stories [you keep a notebook in your sock drawer for when inspiration strikes!], and reading. Just this morning you brought a new book upstairs with you when you were getting ready for school and I knew you had a pretty good chunk of your old one left when you went to bed last night. I asked if you had used your book light and read after we had put you to bed last night. You didn't respond but gave me a look that said, "I think you know the answer but how could I help myself? I know I wasn't supposed to but what would you have done?" I could say nothing to that look. I had stayed up reading until midnight myself. 

You also love archery and spend lots of time just shooting and retrieving arrows in our backyard.  You are really hoping to go bow hunting "for real" soon with Papa.  You also love shooting baskets with your dad. His friend, who is a middle school basketball coach, was over the other day and when he saw you shoot he said, "Her form is perfect! I have 13 year olds that can't figure that out!" You don't care if you miss-- you care if you've followed the form your dad has taught you. You get to move up to the 11 and under league for softball this summer, and watching you be a teammate and learn more skills is always fun. You also picked up golfing this past summer during the shut down. Our neighbor gave you some clubs and your dad took you and he couldn't help but take a video and show it to all his friends. I know nothing about golf, but apparently your form is perfect for it too. This is another testament to how you operate: you are so incredibly coachable, soaking in information and disciplined enough to make yourself do it correctly. Regardless of athletic ability, this skill will take you so far in life.  

Speaking of being a sponge and soaking in what you learn, you've apparently learned a lot from your dad, the banker. Last summer you and your sisters desperately wanted to have a lemonade stand. You wanted to raise money to 1)ride horses in Colorado and 2) buy a dog [if your mom let you]. Your entrepreneurship skills kicked in and you made signs and helped bag treats and we figured out a way to make pre-packaged goodies and drinks as Covid-friendly as possible. We set up the stand on a beautiful day and your first enthusiastic customer arrived. Thankfully it was Coach Blythe, because when he handed you his money you held it up to the sun to verify it was not a counterfeit! We laughed, and I told you not to do that with any other customers, and you said, "Why not? What if someone gives us a fake one like dad showed me?" 

Afterwards your dad and I decided we would try a puppy. You were over.the.moon excited. We picked up Margo, a black and white border collie, in July. You were wonderful with her. You were determined to be helpful and do your part and you carried her in and out to go to the bathroom [she took a few days to learn the stairs]. After two weeks though, we knew as a family it wasn't going to work. I was still too nervous around her, you were heading to school soon, and for our busy family she just wasn't going to work out. We found some friends that would take her in, and then we had to tell you guys. You took it all in stride, like you always do, understanding and acknowledging my limitations with dogs.  But the day we were going to deliver her to her new family you asked if you could be with her by yourself a little bit. I watched from the kitchen window and for about 15-20 minutes you sat next to her, petting her and sobbing. Then you stood up, wiped your eyes, and came back inside. That night when we dropped her off you shed no more tears, and you have not cried about her again. It was devastating to watch you so sad in that moment, and I'll never forget it, but I also saw something else that day as I watched through the window: I saw a girl who knows how to process her emotions. A girl who knows there is a time to weep and a time to laugh [like it says in Ecclesiastes].  I saw a girl who lets herself feel what she needs to feel so she can move to the next thing. And Blythe, that is important and it is something that a lot of people struggle to know how to do. And here you were, saying goodbye to Margo and letting yourself weep so that you could gather yourself later and do the hard thing. It was astonishing. 

We took another family vacation to Colorado [I guess at this point you could say they are annual], and we rode horses. Your horses name was "Duchess" and our guide told us that he has come to the YMCA and ridden Duchess when he was 8 years old too. And he told us that that is when he decided he wanted to come back and work as a horse hand when he was old enough. You asked how old you had to be--18. You said ten years seems like a really long time but that you think you'll go back and do that job too. I wouldn't put it past you. Another fun thing you got to do this year was be a flower girl in Torri's wedding. You and Torri have always had such a special friendship, and watching you walk down the aisle, with her last name as your first, was a special moment. You also got to spend a couple months with your overseas cousins, Caroline, Ellie, Wes, and Lydia. You played endlessly, building forts and creating classrooms and reenacting books. 

Oh Blythe. I could share a million different things about the million different pieces of your heart that we love. You love your little bible study you have with a group of girls at church. You are such a great big sister to your brother and will do just about anything for him. Becks and Nan love to play with you because you know how to make anything a game. You don't care if your clothes match, you don't like brushing your hair, and all your teeth are falling out. Your feet have grown FIVE shoe sizes since your last birthday and your legs are getting longer and longer. You still laugh so hard you have to run to the bathroom! And your dad is still the one that can get you laughing the hardest. You still love all things Little House on the Prairie, and even got to visit Laura Ingalls Wilder's homestead and do a wax-museum project on her this year in school. And while you love to read you still love to play-- you told me once that you didn't want to have any more birthdays because you didn't want to be too old to play with your toys. I think you're beginning to see some of your friends around you leaving Barbies and make believe behind, but I assured you can play for the rest of your life if you have the right attitude about it! I often catch you lounging in the hammock with your best friends [your sisters], and you ask for snacks all the live long day. You are funny and smart, beautiful and witty. 

This year at Christmas you wanted to HAND MAKE something for everyone. On Christmas Eve you were panicking, and spent most of the day finishing up things. You crocheted a scarf and coasters, made a bird out of leaves of sticks, wrote notes and made a car for Sloan out of popsicle sticks. You have a knack for really seeing other people, knowing what they like and need and you care for others well. I see this in your friendships as well-- one of your friends wrote you a song for your birthday this year, and while that says a lot about her and how awesome she is, it says a lot about you, as well: most people don't love others well enough to have songs written for them :) 

Our oldest daughter, you have been a gift to us as we figure out this parenting thing. We mess up a lot, but you are always there to just keep loving us and filling our home with joy. Your confidence is contagious, your willingness to try new things is catching, and your fun spirit is infectious. We pray continually for you to keep looking to Jesus as your guide, trusting the Spirit He has placed in you when you put your hope in Him. Keep reading your bible-- it contains the Truth, will Light your path all of your days, and will show you who God is so you can become more and more like Him. And like I have said in all my letters to you: we hope you understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and in our words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go out on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that it was Grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all. 

Blythe Kathleen, happy NINTH birthday! There is nothing you will ever do to that will make us stop loving you!