I’ve been dreading writing this. I don’t entirely understand why but I think it might be because I couldn’t choose what to write about. I also hate talking about my feelings.

Aunt Lacey, for accepting me before I knew who I was

When you moved to Oregon, I was 5 so I don’t remember much of you then—much. I do remember your blonde hair, your smile, and your glowing spirit that felt like a breath of fresh air. All of that ended when you told our family you were moving away, and now I only see you once every three years. So thank you for always being there for me to complain to, for being a voice of reason when my brother and I were fighting, and for being a ray of sunshine for 14 golden years.

Grandma Mix, for picking me up from school

In all seriousness, the rides to and from the various haircuts and school events only scratches the surface of the gifts you’ve given me. From sewing custom Christmas stockings for the whole family, to sending a punctual birthday card every year, you’ve served your family in a way I only hope to live up to if I ever have kids. You’ve shown your thoughtfulness and intelligence during the long, coffee-filled discussions at Sugar Momma’s. I think out of all the things you’ve smashed out of the park, subverting the mother-in-law stereotype might be your greatest achievement. I could probably write an entire essay on you, but I’ll leave it at this: thank you for being.

Izzy, for being everything

I think we all have people we feel like we’ve known our whole lives. You are that person for me, Izzy. Naming all the ways and reasons I’m thankful for you would be a month long endeavor, but these are the highlights. You never fail to make me feel valued. Whether it be the clothes I wear, the classes I take, or my religious beliefs, I often feel “not normal,” on the outside. You’ve never once made me feel this way. You always draw a smile out of me, regardless of how bad of a mood I’m in. Even if I’m in tears, you find a way to pull me back as you tell me how you were attacked by a can of peas. Through the entire Age of Empires project, you always kept me sane despite our somewhat psychotic teammates. But one day in particular was my favorite: The Day of the Black Dot. Partly because it was a fun idea, but mostly because we got to sneak off into the woods while Mr. Anderson was busy terrorizing the other team. We walked around just talking about people that were annoying us or the homework we had to do when class ended for close to 20 minutes. For a brief time, nothing else mattered. Other than desperately trying not to trip as we took a very much not intended path, of course. (Sorry, Mr. A.)

For all the countless days like this one, I thank you. Thank you for being you, nothing more and nothing less.

Natalie Mix, I actually have no words

I don’t know what to say. Words can’t express how much I love you and how thankful I am for you. But I’m going to try my hardest. You got me my first job, you let me spend days with you at work when I didn’t want to go to school, you’ve picked up Culver’s for me thousands of times, you’ve made me feel loved and special, you didn’t bat an eye when I came out to you, you—mostly—welcome me into your room when I need to vent about Mom, you deal with me when I’m at my worst and encourage me to be my best, you bring me down from panic attacks, you buy flowers with me, you let me tag along to farmer’s markets, you call me out when I’m being stupid (which is quite frequently), you edit my all my stories for TCT, you validate me when I feel like I’m crazy, you make me lattes and tea, you go shopping with me, you pick me up from school, you sing songs with me, you make dinner with me, you are Natalie and I am so thankful for you.

Suzanne McDonald, for being an example of Christian faith and character

I was first introduced to you from afar. After nearly every Sunday service, I could see you and my mom from across the sanctuary. You would be laughing and smiling and exchanging ideas about theology and world religions. I could see you made her truly happy. On the long ride home from Holland back to Grand Rapids, she would talk about you and how much she enjoyed talking to you, how much she respected you as a person. Only when I had the privilege to actually speak to you could I understand why she loved you so much. You’re as smart as a whip, cracking jokes every other sentence, yet you possess a deep well of knowledge on humanity, on Christianity, and on love. Each time I speak to you, I’m once again overwhelmed with awe at how beautiful you really are. As a professor of Systematic Theology, you know quite a lot. But you are the greatest example of good I have ever had the joy to encounter, and that takes a lot more than knowledge. It takes compassion for everyone and everything, it takes grace, and it takes truth. It takes being a ray of hope in these desolate years for the church, for the younger generation to look up to and say, “that is what being a Christian is.” Sadly, it’s a rare experience to meet someone who truly encapsulates living by the law of loving kindness. Someone who doesn’t use the Bible as a way to control women or as an excuse for evil. You are that someone. Now there are a multitude of graces you’ve given me that deserve thanks––because of you and your family, I have authentic U.K. editions of two Beatles records. However, what I’d really like to thank you for is this: your love. One of the promises the congregation makes at every baptism is to be an example of Christian faith and character to the person being baptized. I believe you have fulfilled that promise fully and entirely. Thank you.

All the unnamed friends, for supporting me

Everyone I’ve encountered along the way has affected me in big and small ways, and all of you had significance. It’d be impossible to fit every person that has ever loved me, everyone who has helped me with my homework, offered a shoulder to cry on, edited my stories, kept me sane during biology class, or taught me how to do proofs. For all the gifts and smiles, though I might not always remember to say it, thank you.