Dear Bekah,ÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝÝ July 9, 2007

We are in the summer following your senior year; you are a graduate. I pause and wonder how time could have possibly passed so quickly, roaring past even as I reached out to grab it.

Iíll never forget the day you were born. Labor began normally, but characteristically, you had to be different. As your head pounded against the back of my spine, the intense pain caused the labor to slow to a crawl. The doctor administered a pain block and quickly left to return to his office, assuming it would be hours before you showed up. But within minutes, you were ready and impatient to make your appearance. Dr. Lewis made a U-turn and 10 minutes later you were in our arms, swollen with the rush of delivery, but beautiful and perfect. When the doctor announced that you were a girl, I was thrilled. Iíve always been a bit competitive, and although I was the last of my sisters to marry, I was the first to have a girl! After five grandsons, we loved announcing to Grandma Patterson that it was high time she headed for the store to buy pink.

You have always delighted me. I have so enjoyed watching you take life by storm. Your personality, so like both Dad and I, has brought me great joy and amusement. We never knew what you would do next, but knew you would have a creative, precocious answer ready for why you painted your face green, chopped off all your bangs (again), or swallowed half a bottle of fluoride tablets; why you filled your baby brotherís closed eyes with orange baby Tylenol or why you pinched Alex (ìYou taught me to do it, thank you!î)

Often in your toddler days, your ìWrecka Bekahî days, you had us wondering if you would ever grow to be 18. There was the terrifying moment you toddled down the hallway toward me with a steak knife in your mouth, point in. You werenít more then 11 months old, and still very unsteady on your feet. How you reached that knife remains a mystery, but there were many prayers in those few seconds it took for me to reach you and remove the sharp, life robbing object from your soft, baby lips. Then there was the moment you lodged a penny in your throat and stopped breathing and the tumble down the stairs when you were too young to crawl. Nobody bothered to tell you rolling wasnít an option at 4 months. You used your newfound skill to make it across a large room, tumbling down the carpeted staircase and causing me again to experience that surge of absolute panic when your baby is threatened.

Flash to fall of 1994. You were five years old and desperately wanted the lead role in a Angelís Aware. You carefully memorized all the lines and solos, so sure you would get the role. You were crushed when the part went to a middle-schooler. Bekah, you have always reached for the stars and did everything in your power to succeed in that quest. I loved seeing you finally grab hold of that star when the same musical was resurrected your eighth grade year and you finally got your coveted role of the angel, Gabriel. Your countenance sparkled with joy the night you performed and you looked truly ethereal.

My memories of your grade school years wrap around me like a soft, warm blanket and remind me of all things homey. I was your teacher and your brothers your classmates. My favorite times were the daily snuggles on the couch as we read books like: Around the World in Eighty Days and Seven Daughters, Seven Sons. As we sat close together, enjoying our adventures through books, we grew together as a family and I grew closer to you as the person you were becoming. I learned that, unlike Alex, you had to do your schoolwork in the middle of everything; the worst threat I could offer would be to banish you to your room to do your schoolwork. You worked best sitting right at the dining room table. You have always wanted to live in the middle of the stream! You read voraciously, even when you were supposed to be doing something else, like chores! And you wrote before you could read. You were only five when you started creating stories phonetically. And as you grew, so did your vocabulary and your amazing ability to express yourself using language to its fullest.

Your childhood was not filled with baby dolls and ballet classes; you were definitely not a girly girl! You climbed trees, built forts and played Indian, leading your city friends through your own created ìtomboy testî. I distinctly remember having to rescue Lindsey from a tall tree and finding that you had set a trap for her using your brotherís deep hole and covering it with branches. You refused to fit into a traditional girl mold, but created your own.

I have watched you blossom into a young woman who shares many of my interests, notably reading, writing, teaching and romantic movies! You are truly a gifted writer and I believe you could be a gifted speaker as well. I was so proud of your campaign for student council during your first month at Marist. Never having been in school before, you stood in front of 150 strangers and spoke with courage and conviction. You spoke of your faith and your values, without hedging.

Bekah, you are a strong young woman. You stand firmly on the Rock. Despite the buffeting life storms that could have sent you spinning, you are firmly grounded in ìthe Way, the Truth, and the Life." I believe God will use you in His work and that He would say to you, ìBe strong and very courageous, do not be afraid or dismayed, for the Lord your God will go with you wherever you goî

Now our relationship must change. Iíve always been in the river with you, keeping your head above water, sometimes chastising you for your desire to battle that current when calmer waters are nearby, cool and easy (not that I ever choose the calm waters myself). Now you will be moving beyond my reach, in unfamiliar waters. I must support you with prayers and trust God himself to keep you safe. I love my delightful, daring, determined daughter and I love being your mom! I pray you would have a safe voyage and a delightful ride!