Essie ~ You’ve always been a firecracker.
In celebration of EIGHTEEN, a few of my favorite memories:
When you were about three years old, our sweet friend Lori was volunteering with the young children’s Sunday School at Christ Chapel. Lori wasn’t technically serving with your class, but you jumped in her lap and remained there for praise and worship. One of your teachers looked at Lori with wide eyes, “Do you know Esther?” “Oh yes, her parents are close friends and we’re together a lot – all good!” To which the teacher raised her eyebrows and simply responded, “She’s a pistol.”
When you were in 2nd or 3rd grade, Dad and I left you with Daboo one fall Saturday. Part of the way into the evening, Daboo called and was having trouble getting TV reception for the Baylor game. We weren’t able to solve the problem, so Daboo did what any resourceful grandmother would do and drove you to the closest Fuzzy’s Taco Shop. At a small round hightop, you spent the next couple of hours cheering on the Bears over chips and salsa and tacos. At one point a young police officer approached your table. He asked you how old you were – clearly old enough to care very deeply about college football. After a bit of small talk, he looked at you and said, “I sure hope one day to have a little girl just like you, a little girl who loves football and yells at the tv in a crowded restaurant to cheer on her team.”
Watching Inside Out with you in the theaters. We got to the scene when Bing Bong and Joy are attempting to power the rainbow wagon to the top of the cliff, and Bing Bong slips out of the back of the wagon, sacrificing himself to get Joy to safely. You were so overcome with emotion, I had to literally carry you out of the theater, sobbing. You were so touched by his sacrifice.
Right before Yukon died, as we were loading him to take to Dr. Hotchkiss’ clinic, you ran past us with a little jar of olive oil that Mama and Papa brought home from the Holy Lands. “Wait wait ~ I need to anoint his head with oil,” you declared, and went outside to gently dab Yukon’s nose with oil and kisses.
Reading back over your 2nd birthday post – it’s remarkable how much of you then still sings true. You’ve obviously matured in so many ways, but you’re still your spunky little self, and we could not love you more.
You are most definitely a firecracker, Essie, and a tender one. I learn a lot from you, and admire you, and you make me laugh. To say we will miss your presence in our home is an enormous understatement, but we could not be more grateful for this next life adventure. We love you, happy 18th, and War Eagle sweet girl!
As Bing Bong would say, Take her to the moon!
