You are the newest in a long line of people I love
From D.W.: Yesterday was my niece AK’s birthday. They turned 18. Rachel and AK had a special relationship that started the first time they met. When Rachel and I were dating we made short trip to Belton, TX to visit my sister and her family. This would be the first time they met Rachel and AK, who was 3 years old at the time, thought it would be hilarious to hide in their bedroom and surprise us. The surprise was spoiled a bit when we could see their face poking out from behind the curtains as we walked up to the door, but we didn’t tip our hand. After about 10 minutes inside with no sign of AK, their mom looking for them. Turns out (and I really hope AK doesn’t get upset with me sharing this) that in their excitement to meet my new girlfriend, AK had wet her pants. Rachel, of course, thought this was wonderfully funny and spent the rest of the day assuring them that it was ok and playing any and every made-up game AK wanted.
Shortly after we moved back to Texas three years ago, AK scored tickets to a concert by one of her favorite artists. The show was in Houston, and they asked Rachel to go with them. Rachel was over the moon at being asked and spent a good week stressing about how to balance being “cool Aunt” with “responsible adult.” And though I wasn’t there, I’m certain she handled it perfectly.
This post, so far, is about Rachel and my niece, but anyone who knew even a little bit about Rachel knew how much love, passion, concern, advocacy, mentorship she showed to young people. It was a constant theme throughout her personal and professional life. Few things could make her angrier than the mistreatment of children and few things could bring her as much joy as watching one of them thrive.
There are so many adults today, many of whom may be reading this, that started their relationship with Rachel as a child in her care. A camper, a youth group member, the offspring of one of her friends, her family. In many cases, Rachel was the only stable adult in their lives. She took that relationship seriously and committed to it for life. You were one of “her kids” and that meant something.
I’ve dug up a few pieces Rachel wrote celebrating the children in her life. Happy, pieces. And one that’s… something else.
Facebook. June 5th. 2018
I adore all my Littles. They are each so special and amazing. But this one, this one right here, she's a world beater. She is smart, kind, compassionate, and can make amazing guacamole. You rarely have to wonder what she thinks about anything. With a heart for animals that rivals Saint Francis, and a heart for justice that rivals Ruth Bader Ginsburg, my little gal is burning down the patriarchy and making s'mores from the ashes every single day.
Long Valley Lane. November 9th. 2005
william michael graves--welcome to the world, darlingest boy. i promise to love you my whole life. i promise to listen to your adventures and misadventures with my full attention. i promise to be your friend and take you to the zoo. i promise to get you hopped up on sugar and then take you home to your mom and dad. i promise to remember your birthday, and always send you something random. i promise to think about you every day, and be grateful to God that i know you. i promise to burn lots of gas coming to see you, and i promise i will never complain about the long drive. i promise i will never be too tired to tell you a story or sing you a song. i promise i will ask your mom and dad before i take you to the movies or let you try a new food or drive my car. i promise to make you watch the sun come up at least one time in our life together. i promise to take pictures of you covered in bluebonnets. i promise to burp you after i give you a bottle. i promise to tell you stories about your daddy when he was a little boy. i promise to get you out of jams, when i can help, and to give you inside info on crazy family members. i promise to hold you as much as i can without being a baby hog. mostly, i just promise to love you every day more than i love you today, better than i love you today. you are the newest in a long line of people i love. i promise to be generous with my love, to tell you how much i love you every time i see you.
Facebook. July 31st. 2020.
Some of my small humans are here on the farm with their Momma for Farm Camp with Auntie Rachie. Two of them were watching Frozen Two earlier.
I came in to the living room all smooth. I was like—when is the farting part?
They were all: WHAT???THAT DOESNT HAPPEN!
And I’m all: THEN WHY IS IT CALLED FROZEN TOOT?
And then THEY SHUSHED ME.
Disney killed the Auntie Fart Joke, AND I WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK TO A MANAGER PLEASE.
Facebook. January 22nd. 2024.
Breakfast this morning with one of the older nibblings was marvelous. He is brave and strong and kind—and so smart. And we both agreed that the biscuits and gravy at TelWink were delicious. The best way to spend a dreary, rainy Monday in the middle of the longest January God ever made is aunting with my nibblings. Good Lord, but I absolutely adore these babies, love watching them grow into themselves, love feeding them, love all of it. All of it.
Facebook. October 16th. 2023
When you finish acting in your middle school haunted house, you eat bean and cheese and watch Nightmare Before Christmas with your fave auntcrazy and then let her tell you ridiculous things about your “new” bedroom furniture that was hers when she was little…
***And…oh my heart…my Birdie is friends with Margaret.
Facebook. June 25th. 2019
It's hard to sit here and do nothing, even though there are a million things to do...make donations, phone calls, posts, letters. So many things to do. But who is holding the babies? Who wipes their eyes and noses and holds them and tells them they are beautiful and brave? If no one in charge can be bothered to make sure they have toothbrushes or can go to the bathroom on their own, I can promise you that no one is singing lullabies and murmuring assurances and stories about lovely things into tiny ears. And that ought to break your heart. That ought to make it hard for you to sit still. All I want to do is gas up my car, call my people in the Valley and tell them I will be home in two days to hold as many babies as they can throw at me.
Their mamas and daddies love them so much that they have done the hardest thing--they have gone looking for freedom and a better life with their babies. And we have ripped those babies from them and put them into cages, and then deported their parents or otherwise separated them. My God, what kind of monsters do this? What kind of awful people point to laws and policy and make it ok and excusable to treat CHILDREN this way? Instead of meeting them with what we can share, or finding ways to be helpful, we have done nothing kind, nothing hospitable, nothing that says, "You are a person who deserves to be treated like one." We have made them illegal. We talk about how they need to stay in their own countries and fix things. But have you ever tried to buy items for your children to eat while dodging bullets from cartels or gangs or even your own government? Are your husband and older sons afraid to go outside because if they refuse to join a cartel or a gang, they could be shot in the street? Have your wife or daughter been beaten or raped for the crime of being women in the world? Can you even imagine how desperate these folks are? Surely you must know this is not their first choice. Who but a truly desperate person would make this choice?
If I hear one more person talk about laws or legalities or policy, I'm going to scream until I pass out. Jesus could give a crap about your dumb borders or any of the laws that govern them, but he cares desperately about little children--sick ones, hungry ones, forgotten ones. And he asks us to do the same. Why won't you? What's your excuse? Are you willing to say it to his face or to theirs?
