Dear Conner,
Today is your 17th birthday. I cannot believe that it has been 17 years since our family gathered at St. David's Hospital in Austin to welcome you to this world. Sorry it was at that location, but I did shield your baby eyes from the TU campus next door. You and I are so much alike that it's frightening--so you already know how much I love a good quote. One of my favorites is from Henry Ellis and it goes like this:
"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on."
A few days ago I watched you drive away in your truck with your Aggie sticker on the back window. You were only going back to work for the afternoon, but I felt something on a much bigger scale. You are getting so close to some big changes in your life that I can taste the tears already. The first thing you said this morning was "Good morning Mom. You're not crying are you?" You love to tease me about my difficulty with the "letting go" phase of life, but someday you'll understand.
We've talked many times about your scary entrance into the world...but today all I can think of is your fighting spirit and joy for living every day since. I know that your life has held some challenges, and you're still dealing with some of them now. But even in the midst of trials, you can make me laugh--you can make EVERYONE laugh. Your sense of humor is one of your defining characteristics, your pain is not.
When I look back over the phases of your life thus far, it's hard to pick a favorite. When you were a baby, I loved every minute of being a new mommy. Your toddler years were, shall we say, busy. You approached every day full of energy and never slowed down. Your preschool years were fun too...we welcomed your baby sister and you loved your role as big brother. It almost killed me was amazing watching you adjust to school in kindergarten and then take off with a love of learning that has followed you through your years in school. You excel at everything you put your heart and mind into, but you are so down to earth at the same time. I was touched a few weeks ago when one of your classmates came up to me in the grocery store. He was very upset because he heard you might transfer to another school. He said, "Mrs. Briley, our class needs him." I love that they see you that way, even though at times it is overwhelming to you. They even call you Dr. Phil--hilarious, and sort of daunting too.
This could go on forever, but you're already rolling your eyes. So let's get on with the celebration. I love you and I while I'm holding on as tightly as I can...I am excited for the future. God has great plans for you...beyond anything we can imagine.
Love,
Mom
