Dear Reagan,
Today is November 22, 2024.
Somehow that means it has been 18 years since November 22, 2006. Eighteen years ago, I held my daughter for
the first time. I stared down at your
face and marveled at not just your arrival and existence, but also at this precious
baby girl that was finally mine. Today I
find myself looking up into your lovely face, inches above mine. You were lovely then, and absolutely
beautiful now.
For 18 years I have watched you grow and learn and develop
and blossom. Aside from the first four
colicky months of your life, you have never been a loud child. Most of the time you are content to sit back
and watch and listen to others. You aren’t
a spotlight seeker. And yet, there are
times when you end up in that place because you just shine.
Of course I could go and list all of the various talents that
make you you. I could write about your
incredible gift on the trumpet, your unearthly talent at the piano, your ability
to get perfect grades, your talent for helping customers and managing employees
at the bakery, your grit and determination on a tennis court, or your strong
connection to your siblings. For 17
years I have done that. It’s fun to
think about all the different pieces that make Reagan who she is today. But there’s a deeper way of knowing who you
are. One that reveals whose you
are. On this day, I want to take a turn
and write about that instead.
You choose the path of peace. I’ll admit that I have a bit of a fiery
personality at times. I get too
concerned with justice which can lead me dangerously close to vengeance. I cannot count the number of times where my
reaction is to confront. And sometimes,
that is okay. But you always shake your head
at my suggestions of snappy replies or lesson-teaching tactics. Confrontation is not your way. You are absolutely not a pushover. You hold your ground on what is important to
you, but you are never one to loudly insist or to lash out at others. Even when a big reaction is completely
understandable, you still calmly move through the world. You don’t make unnecessary waves. You choose peace. You pursue it. You value relationship far above being
right.
You choose the path of truth. Four years ago, I don’t think anyone would
have ever considered you to be a great athlete.
You did just fine at soccer. But
somewhere along the way between junior high and high school, you chose to
pursue tennis. In high school tennis,
there are no referees. You and your
opponent must make the line calls and keep the scores accurate. There have been plenty of matches where I sat
and watched you compete against less than honest opponents. Yet you never retaliate with a bad call of
your own. You are honest and you live
truthfully. Your grades are truly your
own. You don’t participate in cheating. You don’t gossip or care about rumors. We don’t have to question if what you are
telling us is the truth because it would be so wildly outside of your character
to be untruthful.
You choose the path of excellence. I doubt that I have ever met someone with more
grit and determination than you. There
are so many ways that you have courageously put yourself out there and risked
rejection. I’ve watched you go through
more auditions and chair placements and honor bands than I could have ever
imagined. Remember that 4th
grade little girl who was so bummed she didn’t get assigned the flute for
band? Yeah, well, you left her in the
dust. In 5th grade you leaned
over to me during a middle school band concert where they were handing out
awards. Quietly, almost conspiratorially,
and rather out of your character, you whispered to me, “I’m going to win one of
those someday.” I think I told you
something like, “Well, you can do it.
But it will take work.” The
amount of time you have spent perfecting your craft on the trumpet is beyond
impressive. But it’s the courage that
you bring to each and every performance that impresses me more.
You choose the path of kindness and compassion. The two people who call you big sister value
your presence in their lives and in our home more than words can say. For two girls in high school, you and Maddie
get along amazingly well. Yeah, there
might be annoyances now and then. You’re
always five minutes behind and she always makes a mess of the bathroom
counter. But beyond that, there isn’t
much tension between the two of you. You’re
very different, and yet you make an effort to encourage, support and cheer on
your younger sister. Your connection
with Hunter goes far beyond hours of playing “Jailbreak” on your devices. You tease Hunter in ways that he would not
accept from anyone else. They both see
you as a dear friend because you treat them not with competition but with
compassion. You genuinely want to see
them do well.
You choose the path of wisdom. A much younger version of me worried when you
didn’t have a whole big crew of friends.
Eventually realizing that who you are friends with is really not up to
me, I let go and let you find your place.
You evaluate people with the right set of metrics. And you invest in people who build you up,
who encourage you, and whose values match with yours. You are careful and intentional, without
being closed off and snobby. And even
though your circle is small, it contains people who are trustworthy. Somehow you balance all of this while still
being approachable to nearly everyone.
You are never spiteful or cruel to others in how you treat them or speak
about them behind their back. You give
grace when others need it the most – which is always when they deserve it the
least.
You choose the path of creativity. There are songs that you have played on our
piano that have never existed before.
Several times I sit there listening, realizing I am hearing something no
one has ever heard. The music just
flows. You simply sit and it is there,
pouring out of you in notes and chords and rhythms. I live with a long list of moments where I
wish I had pulled out my phone to record even just the sound of you playing a
piece you were creating on the spot. I
guess I always thought composers sat there and painfully plucked out a note at
a time. Now, I wonder differently. I wonder if they don’t sit down and their
heart connects with their fingers and out comes the song in a torrent of sound
and resonance. I really don’t know or understand
how you do it. You always tell me it’s
really not that big of a deal and I haven’t found a single person who agrees
with you on that yet. But it’s
special. It’s beautiful. It’s unique.
And it’s creativity that amazes me.
You choose the path of beauty. It’s one thing to see all these talents of
yours, but it’s another thing to see the heart behind them. You’ve learned not just how to be a person in
the world, but how to be YOU in the world.
You are not some random collection of talents or abilities. You are a carefully designed reflection of
character qualities that echo a Savior. Reagan
in these 18 years, I’ve seen you become more and more like Jesus. His love, his gentleness, his compassion, his
wisdom, his honesty, his peace, his grace…I see it shining through you. And even though you are a stunningly
beautiful on the outside, it is the girl beneath the surface that takes my
breath away.
This will be the last of the birthday letters to you that I
will publish online. I’m definitely not
stepping away from my role in your life.
But you are about to leap off into the world and soar. I am not afraid of your future. What a joy it has been to be your Mom. What an honor it has been to walk alongside
you for 18 years. What a blessing you
are to me each and every single day. What
a gift you have been to all of us all along the way. I’m going to spend the rest of eternity
loving you and celebrating the person that you are.
I love you always, always, always.
Love,
Mom
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