You've taught me a lot about being a musician. You have high yet realistic expectations and I appreciate your expertise. You've given me opportunities I never would have had otherwise: Learning steel Drums, playing at Disneyland, visiting Bermuda, discovering the excitement of playing all different percussion instruments, and the joy of making fun of one of the world's most fun directors. (Ahem - that's you.)
I really miss being in band, and I miss going on tours with you and your family. One day soon I hope to be able to join the wind symphony again...maybe next year when Kayla is older. I look forward to learning more Holsinger pieces, playing some more Jack Stamp numbers and perhaps performing in a Soundtrack Concert. (I can do without the Sousa, though...really.)
My eyes have been opened to a whole new world of music since performing in a group under your direction, and I've had more fun being in your band than in any other group in my life. I've also been a part of your group for longer than any other; I was in bell choir, band and choir in high school for three years, and band in elementary school for 4, but I was a part of yours for eight. And I wouldn't trade them for the world.
Thanks for being patient with me, for befriending me, for letting me explore different percussion instruments, and for giving me the opportunity to expand my musical horizons. Thanks for taking me to new places - Tennessee, Florida, Orcas Island, Bermuda - and for giving me the chance to perform at Disneyland. (So awesome!)
Thanks, too, for being a good friend. It's still weird sometimes to call you Brandon and not Mr. Beck, but I'm adjusting. :) I'm glad I know you, and I look forward to performing in your wind symphony again soon.
The One Who Was Two When You Graduated from College,
Becky
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Dear Jim & Louise
I have no idea where you are these days, but judging from your age when I was seven years old, I'm going to guess that you are most likely resting, waiting for our Lord to return to take us home. Regardless, I thought of you this morning and must write you a thank you note.
The first church I remember attending was Claremont. (Now that I think about it, I'm not sure why that city is named that...are there really mountains down there? And, seeing as how it's Southern California, is it really going to be a CLEAR mountain?) There were many people there who left an indelible impression on me - Pastor Ted, Dave and Liz, Chrissy, Michael, Bonnie...and others whose names escape me after so many years. But something was different about you two, and I really don't know what.
I remember your little brown car, and how you always parked at the corner of the wall in the shade of the Eucalyptus trees in the church parking lot. I actually have no memories of you inside the church; only in your car in the large parking lot. And all of my memories include watermelon.
Who brought that melon to potluck every time? Pastor and Margie? I don't know. But whoever did it, it was a known tradition that is probably still maintained to this day. Well, maybe.
Another thing I wonder is this: Why did you two never eat inside with everyone else? Why did you always bring your lunches in little brown paper sacks and sit in your little brown Toyota in the shade with the windows rolled down? Why didn't you at least sit on the grass? Maybe my parents know the reason, but I never did. And as a kid, I never questioned it, either. That's just the way it was.
And "the way it was" included Melanie and I bringing you watermelon every potluck. While you ate your sandwiches in the car all by yourselves, we finished our potluck plates and filled another plate with slices of juicy, dripping watermelon, and ran out to your car to bring it to you. Then we'd sit on the curb and talk to you while you ate.
We felt so special, like important messengers, bringing you that melon. You always smiled so sweet and asked us questions, acting as though our lives were the most important things in the world right then. I'll never forget that.
Thank you for making some little girls feel very loved, special and important.
See you soon,
Becky
The first church I remember attending was Claremont. (Now that I think about it, I'm not sure why that city is named that...are there really mountains down there? And, seeing as how it's Southern California, is it really going to be a CLEAR mountain?) There were many people there who left an indelible impression on me - Pastor Ted, Dave and Liz, Chrissy, Michael, Bonnie...and others whose names escape me after so many years. But something was different about you two, and I really don't know what.
I remember your little brown car, and how you always parked at the corner of the wall in the shade of the Eucalyptus trees in the church parking lot. I actually have no memories of you inside the church; only in your car in the large parking lot. And all of my memories include watermelon.
Who brought that melon to potluck every time? Pastor and Margie? I don't know. But whoever did it, it was a known tradition that is probably still maintained to this day. Well, maybe.
Another thing I wonder is this: Why did you two never eat inside with everyone else? Why did you always bring your lunches in little brown paper sacks and sit in your little brown Toyota in the shade with the windows rolled down? Why didn't you at least sit on the grass? Maybe my parents know the reason, but I never did. And as a kid, I never questioned it, either. That's just the way it was.
And "the way it was" included Melanie and I bringing you watermelon every potluck. While you ate your sandwiches in the car all by yourselves, we finished our potluck plates and filled another plate with slices of juicy, dripping watermelon, and ran out to your car to bring it to you. Then we'd sit on the curb and talk to you while you ate.
We felt so special, like important messengers, bringing you that melon. You always smiled so sweet and asked us questions, acting as though our lives were the most important things in the world right then. I'll never forget that.
Thank you for making some little girls feel very loved, special and important.
See you soon,
Becky
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Dear Marci
You'll probably NEVER see this, but I have to write it anyway. You are one of my absolute best friends, and there is so much I love you for.
You make me laugh SO MUCH. Not just because of your sense of humour, but sometimes because of the blunders you get yourself into by trying to be unique, nice, or over-the-top. The incredible thing is that you never let ANYTHING get you down, and I admire you for that. You always have a smile on your face.
Your creativity never ceases to amaze me. Who else would have insisted we put that Austin Healy on the stage in the gym?!? Who else would have chased a DHL truck down the freeway to the loading zone to find a place still open to mail the yearbook proof before the deadline? Who else would've made "dinner" out of corn flakes, maple syrup and peanut butter...or made up a chocolate cookie recipe with anything we could find in the cupboards, and then FRY them because the oven wasn't working? Who else would've eaten a "worm" in front of speech class? (Well, okay, maybe Nathan.)
Determination really should be your middle name. Or perhaps Travel Bug. Maybe "I Need Becky to Proofread Anything I Write." :-P
Regardless, the bottom line is that I'm so glad we're friends, and I will never stop wishing we lived closer and could see each other more than 2-3 times per year. Though really...I guess that's not too bad, considering how often I see Tara (if I'm lucky, once a year).
Thanks for putting up with my crankiness, my cynicism and my blunt, tactless approach to criticism. I don't know how you did it, but thank you anyway. I love being friends with you!
Love,
Becky-Bob
You make me laugh SO MUCH. Not just because of your sense of humour, but sometimes because of the blunders you get yourself into by trying to be unique, nice, or over-the-top. The incredible thing is that you never let ANYTHING get you down, and I admire you for that. You always have a smile on your face.
Your creativity never ceases to amaze me. Who else would have insisted we put that Austin Healy on the stage in the gym?!? Who else would have chased a DHL truck down the freeway to the loading zone to find a place still open to mail the yearbook proof before the deadline? Who else would've made "dinner" out of corn flakes, maple syrup and peanut butter...or made up a chocolate cookie recipe with anything we could find in the cupboards, and then FRY them because the oven wasn't working? Who else would've eaten a "worm" in front of speech class? (Well, okay, maybe Nathan.)
Determination really should be your middle name. Or perhaps Travel Bug. Maybe "I Need Becky to Proofread Anything I Write." :-P
Regardless, the bottom line is that I'm so glad we're friends, and I will never stop wishing we lived closer and could see each other more than 2-3 times per year. Though really...I guess that's not too bad, considering how often I see Tara (if I'm lucky, once a year).
Thanks for putting up with my crankiness, my cynicism and my blunt, tactless approach to criticism. I don't know how you did it, but thank you anyway. I love being friends with you!
Love,
Becky-Bob
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Dear Merrie Beth
It's funny how sometimes you make friends in the least likely places. I NEVER would have imagined becoming good friends with someone I met while learning the difference between Transition and Active Labour or talking about what it means for one's "water" to "break."
I also never thought I'd spend most Sundays hanging out with someone whose husband took a group picture while holding a pair of forceps. LOL!
But God works in - to be cliche - mysterious ways, and this situation was no exception. I feel incredibly blessed each time I think about our friendship and how God put you in my life at just the right time.
I needed someone who completely understood my pregnancy woes, my first-time-mom joy, and my sudden lack of sleep at the end of July. I needed someone who loved God as I do, and who would accept my beliefs without hesitation. I needed someone who would work as I was to be the best Christian mom and example possible. And God sent me you.
Perfect.
Regardless of whether or not our girls remain friends through childhood, the teenage years, and adulthood, I'm fairly certain you and I will. I'm expecting to call you up and rant about how angry Kayla is making me with her 15-year-old attitude...then call you back the next day in tears when she surprises me with a home-cooked meal for dinner. I'm expecting us to attend each other's daughters' weddings, and perhaps their graduations. I'm expecting you to email me about Chloe's endless string of admirers and we can laugh at together at their antics.
You are a great listener and I love talking about motherhood with you. You and I have a lot of the same ideals and morals and it's such a relief and joy to know someone like that. I feel like I can talk to you about anything, and I love that, because there are some things husbands just can't understand that other women do. :)
So thanks for being such a good friend.
Becky
I also never thought I'd spend most Sundays hanging out with someone whose husband took a group picture while holding a pair of forceps. LOL!
But God works in - to be cliche - mysterious ways, and this situation was no exception. I feel incredibly blessed each time I think about our friendship and how God put you in my life at just the right time.
I needed someone who completely understood my pregnancy woes, my first-time-mom joy, and my sudden lack of sleep at the end of July. I needed someone who loved God as I do, and who would accept my beliefs without hesitation. I needed someone who would work as I was to be the best Christian mom and example possible. And God sent me you.
Perfect.
Regardless of whether or not our girls remain friends through childhood, the teenage years, and adulthood, I'm fairly certain you and I will. I'm expecting to call you up and rant about how angry Kayla is making me with her 15-year-old attitude...then call you back the next day in tears when she surprises me with a home-cooked meal for dinner. I'm expecting us to attend each other's daughters' weddings, and perhaps their graduations. I'm expecting you to email me about Chloe's endless string of admirers and we can laugh at together at their antics.
You are a great listener and I love talking about motherhood with you. You and I have a lot of the same ideals and morals and it's such a relief and joy to know someone like that. I feel like I can talk to you about anything, and I love that, because there are some things husbands just can't understand that other women do. :)
So thanks for being such a good friend.
Becky
Monday, May 3, 2010
Dear Jason
I don't even know where to start with this one. Perhaps I should just make a list. It would certainly be right up your alley, and would make this letter much shorter. I think I will.
Thank you for:
Love,
Me
Thank you for:
- Making your marriage proposal romantic and perfect.
- Cooking me dinner on a regular basis.
- Doing the chores I hate doing.
- Always being a gentleman.
- Laughing at my jokes.
- Understanding how much I enjoy surprises and doing your best to oblige me.
- Not complaining whenever I buy a pair of shoes or a new shirt.
- Going grocery shopping with me.
- Taking me to Leavenworth - and keeping it a secret until we were nearly there.
- Telling me the food is good whenever I cook.
- Being a good compromiser.
- Letting me talk you into spending two weeks in London.
- Being such a wonderful father to our beautiful daughter.
- Teaching me about baseball.
- Putting up with my complete ineptitude when it comes to geography.
- Introducing me to classical music.
- Liking chocolate as much as I do.
- Dealing with me so well when I was pregnant.
- Not drooling over (or even really looking at) every half-dressed woman that comes across the TV screen or walks down the street. (And these days, that's a LOT.)
- Not complaining when I get big wet spots on your shirt from crying.
- Making me do things I don't want to do but should.
- Playing board games and card games and computer games with me.
- Being fun to travel with.
- Supporting me. In everything.
- Making me feel pretty.
- Always kissing me goodnight, even when I've already fallen asleep by the time you come to bed.
- Being a wonderful Christian man.
- Sticking with me, even when I'm extremely difficult. (Which, as we all know, is rare, but still happens. HA!)
- Having an incredible sense of humour.
- Being "the best ever."
Love,
Me
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Dear Tara
Writing my thank you letter to your mom yesterday made me think of all the things I need to thank you for, too.
First of all, thank you for showing me where the "washroom" and drinking fountain were. I'm not sure how long it would've taken us to become friends if not for those five minutes. (Or maybe I should thank Miss Benwell for that...?)
Secondly, thanks for letting me borrow your coloured pencils. ...And for not getting mad at me for always asking.
Thank you for following me into the bathroom at school when another girl made me cry, and for talking me out of the stall, convincing me you were indeed still my friend and that we'd always be friends. You were right, and I'm so glad!
I remember hoping against hope that I'd get to sit with you when the teacher moved our desks around. I remember you being taken home at 2 a.m. because we were playing Crocodile and for some reason my parents didn't like us standing on the furniture and laughing hysterically at that time of the morning. I remember Saturday night ice cream. I remember being mad that you always had Pathfinders and couldn't come over much during the school year. I remember how much it annoyed me that you and Marci always wanted to let my sisters play with us. I remember filling entire notepads with notes back and forth during church. I remember exploring that scary bullet-hole-infested trailer that mysteriously had always been in that field next to the school...and getting in trouble for it. I remember you laughing at my book title about the four seasons. I remember your adventures with dog treats. I remember not understanding how you could be so nice to EVERYONE. I remember sleepovers..."How now, brown cow?" and "The countdown is down..." (Where did we ever get this stuff?!?)
Then we grew up. We graduated from high school together, went to college together, shared a dorm room together...and found out together that Nathan had been killed in a car accident. Then we cried together. We talked about boyfriends, jealousy, dates, relationships, love, and marriage. We studied together, watched movies together and ate in the cafeteria together.
Then you moved. You had boyfriends, got a tattoo, pierced your ears, got a coffee machine, bought a truck and finished your first degree. All without me. It was a sad time!
But every time we got together it was like nothing had ever changed. As though we were still having sleepovers, discussing brown cows, eating ice cream at midnight and whining about boys. You always have been my best friend, Tay-ruh...and you were right - you always will be. I couldn't ask for a better one. Thank you.
I love you, buddy!
Love,
Britches
First of all, thank you for showing me where the "washroom" and drinking fountain were. I'm not sure how long it would've taken us to become friends if not for those five minutes. (Or maybe I should thank Miss Benwell for that...?)
Secondly, thanks for letting me borrow your coloured pencils. ...And for not getting mad at me for always asking.
Thank you for following me into the bathroom at school when another girl made me cry, and for talking me out of the stall, convincing me you were indeed still my friend and that we'd always be friends. You were right, and I'm so glad!
I remember hoping against hope that I'd get to sit with you when the teacher moved our desks around. I remember you being taken home at 2 a.m. because we were playing Crocodile and for some reason my parents didn't like us standing on the furniture and laughing hysterically at that time of the morning. I remember Saturday night ice cream. I remember being mad that you always had Pathfinders and couldn't come over much during the school year. I remember how much it annoyed me that you and Marci always wanted to let my sisters play with us. I remember filling entire notepads with notes back and forth during church. I remember exploring that scary bullet-hole-infested trailer that mysteriously had always been in that field next to the school...and getting in trouble for it. I remember you laughing at my book title about the four seasons. I remember your adventures with dog treats. I remember not understanding how you could be so nice to EVERYONE. I remember sleepovers..."How now, brown cow?" and "The countdown is down..." (Where did we ever get this stuff?!?)
Then we grew up. We graduated from high school together, went to college together, shared a dorm room together...and found out together that Nathan had been killed in a car accident. Then we cried together. We talked about boyfriends, jealousy, dates, relationships, love, and marriage. We studied together, watched movies together and ate in the cafeteria together.
Then you moved. You had boyfriends, got a tattoo, pierced your ears, got a coffee machine, bought a truck and finished your first degree. All without me. It was a sad time!
But every time we got together it was like nothing had ever changed. As though we were still having sleepovers, discussing brown cows, eating ice cream at midnight and whining about boys. You always have been my best friend, Tay-ruh...and you were right - you always will be. I couldn't ask for a better one. Thank you.
I love you, buddy!
Love,
Britches
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Dear Connie
I always said you were my second mom, and it still holds true today. When my mom wasn't there (such as at school when I had to do a demonstration in class and forgot one of the ingredients), you stepped in and helped me out ("Here's a handful of quarters - go get as much 7-Up as you need out of the vending machine.").
You listen to my stories, laugh at my jokes (and don't act surprised when one is actually funny), and never say "no" when I want to come see you.
You always know just what to say...you, like my own parents, are wise well beyond your 29 years. :) You're a good listener, but you're also a wonderful advice-giver. I have never questioned how Tara could be best friends with her mother. You're a fantastic friend and an amazing person to know.
Thanks, too, for letting me be friends with your daughter. I guess you just knew that in spite of the fact that I could have been a VERY bad influence on her, that she was strong enough to instead be a wonderfully good influence on me. You raised her right, Connie, and she's taught me a lot over the years. (I guess I need to thank her for putting up with me for so long!)
You have an easy laugh that makes me smile, and a gentle voice that calms me down. I always feel important when I talk to you, and whatever issue I'm battling at that moment seems to be the only thing you care about right then. You somehow know exactly what to say and how to act to show me what I'm doing is stupid, without ever making me feel bad about myself. Thank you.
Plus, you make delicious oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. And I'm pretty sure the number of those I could down in one sitting would rival five pieces of cake.
I love you, Connie!
Love,
Daughter #2
You listen to my stories, laugh at my jokes (and don't act surprised when one is actually funny), and never say "no" when I want to come see you.
You always know just what to say...you, like my own parents, are wise well beyond your 29 years. :) You're a good listener, but you're also a wonderful advice-giver. I have never questioned how Tara could be best friends with her mother. You're a fantastic friend and an amazing person to know.
Thanks, too, for letting me be friends with your daughter. I guess you just knew that in spite of the fact that I could have been a VERY bad influence on her, that she was strong enough to instead be a wonderfully good influence on me. You raised her right, Connie, and she's taught me a lot over the years. (I guess I need to thank her for putting up with me for so long!)
You have an easy laugh that makes me smile, and a gentle voice that calms me down. I always feel important when I talk to you, and whatever issue I'm battling at that moment seems to be the only thing you care about right then. You somehow know exactly what to say and how to act to show me what I'm doing is stupid, without ever making me feel bad about myself. Thank you.
Plus, you make delicious oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. And I'm pretty sure the number of those I could down in one sitting would rival five pieces of cake.
I love you, Connie!
Love,
Daughter #2
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