Dear Angie,

If anyone were to wash my mouth out with soap and I were to still love them minutes, days, months, and years later, it would only be you.

To think back on my life is to think of you - always right there, always on the trip where we laughed the most, always there at the celebrations, the ones big and the ones small, always there when the ground begins to crack, when the news is too much for one soul to bare alone. Always there.

I always complain that our family feels so small - with few of us still left here breathing, how could it not? But sometimes I forget to count the other four members of our family - the ones that know us each inside and out and love us despite. The ones that would travel across the world if we asked, the ones that send the birthday cards and call during their drives home through traffic, the ones that know how we each like our drinks and know our bedtime is a prompt old lady time of around nine pm or so. The ones that are you four, that ones that have always been there.

I love you as my family. I always have and I always will, and should I ever find myself thinking we're alone, all I have to do is think of you - the one that loves me enough to wash my mouth out with soap (don't deny it, you know you did it).

Thank you for being our family. Thank you for always being there and here and wherever it is we may need you next. Thank you for loving each of us with such heart and sacrifice and loyalty. How lucky are we?

Thank you & I love you.

Dear Rick,

There would be another headstone next to my brothers right now if you hadn't found me, if you hadn't taken my bleeding heart in your hands and protected it and fought for it like I was your own.

I spent many minutes questioning this life and our God in your company and you always let me question and fume and debate until the day's end. You gave me a place to unpack my pain, to wade through my grief in raw honesty. You gave me a safe place to scream and yell and cry and, eventually, to heal. There was never any judgment in your eyes, never admonishment for the words coming out of my mouth, never anything other than love for my broken soul and a fierce desire to protect it from the biting jaws of this world.

In a way, you were the shepherd and I was the sheep. Without the path forward, the path beyond the most barren desert being illuminated, without the guidance and gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) prodding of the Shepherd, the sheep would have known nothing but more death, more slaughtering.

Thank you for saving me. Thank you for carrying on the worry of a big brother for his little sister and channeling it into a mentorship and a friendship that provided life for one, and thus, many. I love you with every ounce in my soul and will forever be the most thankful for the way you shepherded me, for the way you protected the sheep in me and saw me into lionhood. Without you nothing would have been possible. 

Thank you & I love you. 

Dear Mr. Fuller,

It was a desire to be like my brother that led me to you, but I also like to think it was something greater, something deeper at work and at play than the desire for a little sister to emulate her big brother.

I admired you at first for reasons that weren't my own - the fact that your class seemed to be one of the few that held Zach's attention spoke volumes to me at a time when he was known to fall asleep in the most challenging of classes. The way he spoke about you in a manner of wonder and respect spoke to me, too. There was never a question in our home of what language elective I would choose when the time came. It was Mr. Fuller and Latin I, of course.

It didn't take long for me to come to admire you for my own reasons, though I suspect they mirrored my brothers all along.

Walking into your classroom felt like walking into the class of my literal dreams, where you could barely move through the rows for the books lining the edges of the room took over most usable square footage. The smell of old books brings me back to your room and those fifty or so minutes Monday - Friday spent engaged, learning and wondering and soaking up all that your class had to teach us, which went far beyond the ancient Romans and the basics of a language many liked to say was "dead" (your frequent passion filled rants about this topic were always my favorite, and is something I exclaim to this day: "Latin isn't dead!").

I always wondered why you weren't teaching at a university somewhere, and I always followed that thought up with an immediate "Thank goodness he isn't. I like him right here in Bellville." Of all the stories you told, I'm not sure, or more likely my memory is failing me these ten + years later, how you came to be in Bellville exactly, but I know the town and the students were infinitely better off for it, the two Morris children included, if not right near the top of that list. I'm thankful for your steadfast presence in those noisy halls of the high school, for your classroom that felt like an escape from the modern world and a throwback to a slower, more nostalgic time. Your wisdom that you imparted on those lucky enough to call you their teacher made all of us better pupils and human beings, and I can still see and feel the gentle nods and smiles of your approval and reassurance. Thank you for comforting me in those hard days after Zach died, in the quiet yet firm way only you could. Thank you for listening to the confusion of a lost young girl, for helping to see her through the pain and the melancholy. I can't thank you enough, and I love you.

Dear Ashlyn,

I can see you pulling into the parking lot right now. That big Navigator whipping into a space that barely seems large enough for it, dirt and dust all over the windows and sides. I can see you hopping out right now, too - with a quick little burst of movement and energy that somehow seems to propel you a hundred feet forward in one go, leaving behind a burst of color and ideas and life.

This is how I think of you always. A mad rush and dash around, coupled with a big thirst for more and deeper and truth, topped off with a heart and a mind that feels and knows so, so much.

Your friendship is the same - fun and vibrant, always holding space for more, always ready to talk or dance or yell or scream  (in a good, fun, girls just wanna have fun way).

That mind of yours is your greatest gift. It’s brilliant and it’s courageous and it’s sassy and it’s stylish (what? you didn’t know a mind could be stylish? yours totally is) and it’s dang fun. I hope you know this and believe it all the beautiful days of your life.  

Thank you & I love you.  

Dear Meg,

I wasn't ready to meet you when I did. I wasn't ready to dive right in, I wasn't quite ready to get and be serious, I wasn't as prepared as I wanted to be.

But like you've been teaching me from then on, sometimes the best things happen when you aren't ready, and when left up to your own self, you never would have been 'ready' anyways. Sometimes the most fateful of things happen when you just do it. When you be a verb.

I thank God every day for that yellow Fiat in Italy, for that tug on your heart, for the friendship and partnership that has had a chance to come to life since.

To put it in your terms, you feel like the cream to my sugar. Or am I the sugar to your cream, cause I'm definitely the sweeter one? Or is it sugar to your coffee? Maybe I'll leave the Southern sayings up to you.

I know I'll rise with you. How could one not when standing beside you? Your words lift me up when I'm on the brink of throwing it all in. Your understanding of me makes me laugh almost weekly - how do you know the inner workings of my brain so well already? The grace you continuously show me keeps me feeling capable and worthy, the honest truth you proclaim holds me accountable and driven, pushing me along further and further until the fire inside of me realizes it's not yet ready to rest or give up - there are things to set ablaze, things to do, things to be a verb for.

I wish I could turn your encouragement around on you. I wish I could take the words and the things you often choose to believe in others and reflect them back to you in the mirror each morning, so you would always know the brilliant mind that lives inside your skull, the soft and big heart that beats each second beneath the shell of your defenses - that ones that are just for show - and the creative spirit that runs through your veins, the one that feeds your entire being, that makes up the inner workings of who you are.

You’re a friend and a champion like no other, and I vow to always return the honesty, the collaboration, the support, and the cheers of the champion that make up the inner cells of our friendship.

Thank you & I love you.  

Dear Kim,

There are a few things I know for sure in this life. Some of those are that chocolate cupcakes will always be a favorite of mine, the streets of Bellville will rarely change, sunshine makes everything feel less heavy, and your soul is made up of pure joy, strength, fire, and an all-encompassing faith and love for the people in your life and the God you serve.

I love a lot of things about you - like a lot. You'll always be one of my favorite people, one of my most trusted confidants and protectors. But one of the things I most love about you is the way your face tells it all. When you're angry or flustered and trying to remain calm, your face betrays you by turning red and your mouth turns into that tight line I think I've seen aimed at Stephen one too many times. When you've just been told something shocking, your big ole blue eyes get even wider, betraying the surprise and questions coursing through your mind. When you're looking at someone you're proud of, your eyes crinkle up, you tilt your head a bit, and you smile that bewildered soft smile that almost says "I can't even believe it. Would you look at them?" When your heart is breaking and you have no words to comfort the one beside you, your eyes turn the most tender and your entire face shows the compassion that runs through your blood. Your sweet face may betray you from time to time, but there's not an ounce of betrayal in your being. You're one of the most loyal people I know, and to be on the receiving end of that loyalty, both as an individual and as a family, for so many years makes me the most grateful.

Like with the case of most forever friends, I don't remember a clear time before you and after you. I just know you've always been there. I can't tell you when it started - was it mom you came to call first? Was it Stephen and I running wild through the neighborhood that forged two families together forever? Was it when dad first moved to Bellville, while the three of us stayed behind in Coleman for a while, that you and Mike befriended him? I don't remember when our family began to think of your family as ours, but somehow somewhere along the way we did.

You've fought for me and fought against me, only to try and save me from myself. You've stood up beside and behind me, walking with me when I could, and propping me up and dragging me along when my own two feet were too weak to make the first step. You've believed in me and you've believed for me. When my faith became hatred, your faith carried me through. When my faith began to doubt, your faith reminded me of how far we've come, of the good that He's done.

There are a few people it would be impossible to be standing today without. You're at the top of that list. Thank you for loving me so. Thank you for loving Zach, for loving mom, for loving dad. Thank you for the reassurances of all reassurances, no matter the time of day when I may need your faith or guidance or love poured over me. Thank you for the pure joy I feel when in your presence - it's a direct reflection of you as a whole. You are one of the greatest gifts.

Thank you & I love you. 

Dear Foxy,

Ohhhh, Foxy. You really are just that - foxy. But you're also kind and sweet, you're generous and warm, the most welcoming of welcoming. You're full of goodness and light, with a heart as big as the Texas sky you've joyfully parked yourself under.

The days and the years we were able to spend together will always be some of the richest when I look back on them now. To see the season I was in, and to look back and see you walking right beside me, always with a hug and that encouraging smile of yours, seem to somehow lighten the load, even all these years later. I dare not think about how heavy the days would have been without you.

Thank you for supporting me always. Thank you for helping me to feel seen, known, and loved. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for loving Zach. Thank you so, so, so much for loving him.

Thank you, Foxy, and I love you.

Dear John,

I loved you from fifth grade and I’ll love you till the day I die. 

If I try to imagine a world without you in it, it's one of the most shitty worlds I've ever imagined. There are a few key years in the middle of my life that probably wouldn't have existed (and subsequently, all following years) if it weren't for you. Knowing that you were in my corner, that you always understood my fears, my wild thoughts, my big dreams, my boredom and my motivation, allowed me to carry on through those treacherous days, and far beyond.

You've reassured me on my most doubtful of nights, you've answered a thousand middle of the night S-O-S texts, you've been the one propping me up with your belief and your hope when I had none. You've walked behind me and beside me, every single step of the way since our little ten year old souls met. Thank you for being my ever constant confidant, my adventure buddy not afraid of a little bit of trouble, my encourager of all encouragers, my fellow realist, and my fellow deep thinking, soul searching, art loving, life giving best friend for years and years and years. You reminded me time and time again that the sun would always come, and most importantly, that I was always worthy of it.

The sun feels good, but it feels even better when I remember that you're standing in it with me. Always have been, and I know, always will be.

Thank you and I love you.

Oh and also, thank you for choosing Ellen. Sometimes I even like her more than you. ;)

Oh and also also, I can't wait to walk this next, adulthood adventure with you. What a crazy honor our teenage selves wouldn't have ever believed. Here's to so many more BrintonJohnEllenAllie weekends.

Dear Ellen,

I couldn’t have handpicked you if I tried. You feel like a friend that I’ve always had, a friend that despite not knowing all of the things I would want a lifelong friend to know, you already somehow do know them. How is that? It's hard to remember life before you were in it, which says it all. 

Thank you for loving John so well. While I may not have hand picked you for him myself, I know without a doubt that God did. You bring out the best in him, while leaving him wild at the same time. It takes a rare kind of person to love their people like that, you know?

You're one of my favorite people to spend my days with. Your brilliance and beauty astound me always, and your sass always leaves me feeling in good company. Any time spent with you is an honor and a good time, and I pray there will be years upon years upon years of more dinner dates, weekends together, and shenanigans to be had and retold for years to come. 

Thank you and I love you.

Dear Mrs. Jackson,

Neither one of us may remember exactly, but I know it was you that February afternoon at yet another funeral who reached over the pew and squeezed my shoulder, who recognized how difficult the moment must have been.

You gave me a gift that day and a lesson that I will never forget - that people hadn't forgotten him, that people won't forget him, and that I mattered, too. Someone saw me, and that someone was you. With that one simple gesture and recognition, you spoke directly into my soul and I've never forgotten the gift and the lesson you gave me that day. I never will.

You've always been the sweetest, most encouraging of all encouragers. Every smile and hug from you felt like an extra hug of comfort and nod of support, then and now. I have a feeling that will never change. 

Thank you & I love you.

Dear Tyler,

I don’t remember when your name first entered my world or when I first realized I was actually going to come to call you a real life friend, but in the short time we’ve known each other I’m already grateful for so many different aspects of your friendship and your life here on this earth. I truly can’t imagine the last year or so without your wisdom, sass, and friendship. 

You inspire me to not only continue onwards, but upwards as well. Despite the inevitable pain and obstacles that are always on the path before us, you motivate me to continue reaching, to step into my full potential and to seek the goodness that is out there every day.

Your soul is a resilient one. It’s full of character and strength, having been through the fire a few times in life and emerging standing on the other side, possibly burnt but still whole. The energy that curses through your cells is spurred by a desire to know and do more, to be more. I know your journey forever forwards will never be a boring one. I know it will always be paved in faith and lit by an inner inspiration and motivation that will never cease. And if it does, I’ll be here to remind you of all the good things in this life and of all the great that awaits you. 

And I know he’s proud of you. He always will be. 

It’s an honor to call you a friend. 

Thank you & I love you. 

Dear Vicki,

I can hear your sweet voice right now - sounding from neither here nor there, yet all the more sounding like home.

Our blood may be different, made up of different families from different cities and from different states and different traditions, but there’s a likeness that runs through our bones and connects our hearts to each other. 

Maybe it’s because you wear the same pain that broke my own mama’s heart each day and maybe it’s because I know the terror that rushes through your veins if you let it. Either way, I know we were meant to find each other.

You feel like a place of refuge. A home away from home, a mama when my own mama isn’t near. Your heart feels familiar to mine, thumping in beat with the same strong willed beats of mine.

Thank you for knowing the importance of two dates and for never forgetting those days. Thank you for loving my mama so well. Thank you for being her lunch buddy and her friend. Thank you for walking the road beside her, beside each of us, and for loving us so well.

Thank you & I love you.  

Dear Melinda,

One day our lives we're all a little more quiet, a little less "waaahh!" (for many reasons). And then one day, your loud voice came booming through the house and none of our lives have been quiet or the same since.

The way you love mom and are there for her is one of the most loyal depictions of friendships I've been able to witness up close, and it's one that teaches me often about the kind of women I want in my corner. You've propped up the Morris family on days when our leader couldn't get out bed, you've encouraged us each on days when the skies overhead were filled with raging storm clouds, not a hint of the sun in sight. You've kept the faith for us each in the moments when ours plummeted, when we felt like we had nothing left to breathe for. You've reminded us of the glory to come and had us look in the mirror when we forgot the beauty amidst us in the here and now. You've been a well of generosity, a living breathing example of what it means to be a selfless friend and lover of your best people. You've been a saving grace to us all, and the best friend to mom. Your friendship is a beautiful depiction of the soul that inhabits that short little body and big mouth of yours, and is one to be forever grateful for.

Thank you and I love you.

Dear Steve,

Everything I love about Brinton, I love about you too. 

You’re silly and kind and fun. You’re sensitive and tender hearted and hardworking. You’ve raised the man I always prayed for and you set the stones along his path to becoming an amazing man, husband, and father. I know he had one incredible example of each growing up and has learned from the best. I’ll forever be grateful for you. 

Thank you & I love you.  

Dear Sunshine,

You remind me of everything good... of lazy college afternoons spent lounging in the park with my friends, of innocent and wildly imaginative days spent outside pretending to bring Little House on the Prairie to life in my well-manicured childhood backyard, not a prairie or a bonnet in sight. You remind me of painfully hot summer afternoons that turned into that sticky, sweet feeling of a summer night in small-town Texas, sitting on the backs of trucks in empty parking lots and pastures and backroads. You remind me of the importance of running early in the summer mornings, of bright and hot afternoons throwing the basketball into the hoop out in the driveway, of pedaling as fast as I could down Mississippi street, pretending my yellow bicycle was a car (don't forget to stop at the stop signs and turn your imaginary blinker on, kids). You remind me of days spent at the beach with my family, of playing beneath your long, outstretched rays until mom and dad dragged our worn out bodies and blissfully happy souls back to the condo, where we would immediately fall asleep on the couch as you began to retreat for the night. You remind me of my friends smiling beneath your joyful watch, clinking their glasses together in delight. You remind me of birthdays spent beneath your May warmth, of more birthdays spent beneath your bright, pounding July outstretched arms. You remind me of everything good and happy in this life.

Thank you & I love you. 

Dear Audrey,

Where did our friendship even come from? One day you weren't there, and then the next day you were - full of color, joy, and that "down for anything" spirit I've come to love so. 

Oh, your soul. It's one of the best. I think if we were to hold it in our hands and view it through a lens, we would see the deepest colors of pure love coursing through it, making up the boundaries of all that it contains. Inside those walls of love we would see a big ole corner of pure silliness and a childlike joy that most adults seem to lose by age sixteen or so. Not you. That's one of my most favorite things about you. If I turned your soul over and looked in the center, I would see your steadfast faith and your generous spirit. I would see all that your soul contains being propped open by that center, by that faith. If I looked towards the bottom corner, I think I would see a little portion reserved for a fierce sense of style and self. Up towards the top? I would see your family and your son, all of your dreams and beliefs and loyalty. Around the bend from the silliness in your soul? I'd find the most fun spirit for adventure, one that every single person who loves you also loves about you. One that a certain little boy named Harrison is going to have so much fun with, and probably learn to use to his advantage as he grows up. There's a bit of sass and grit tucked away at the bottom (or some days, at the very top) of that soul of yours, and I fully believe that sass sought out the sass in my soul and said "let's go make them forever friends." That's one smart and beautiful soul of yours, my friend.

I've always long believed that the beauty is found in the mess. Thank you for not shying away from the messy with me. Thank you for couch cries, for unconditional support no matter what, for a forgiveness that only speaks of love and true friendship, for a hug and a smile that always feels like home, for a faith that believes when those around you struggle to, for loving me, and loving me well, through the mess, the triumphs, the despair and the fun.

Thank you for being the sweet soul sister friend you are - and I love you big.