I love to write. I enjoy the process of writing and the feeling that I get when an idea that has been floating around in my head is finally down in black and white. When I have been able to take all of those disconnected thoughts and make them understandable.
I might enjoy writing because it is one thing that has always come easy to me. I could crank out a research paper in an impressively short amount of time and would often have writing assignments done before the bell rang for my next class. I wrote and delivered my Grandfather's eulogy and had no problem chronicling our journey through Autumn's diagnosis and subsequent surgery, in great detail.
Truthfully, I had never found a topic that I couldn't at least write something about - until I was tasked with writing and delivering the Matron of Honor toast at my little sister's wedding. I thought, and thought and thought - until I had so many thoughts I didn't know what to do with them. I had SO MUCH that I wanted to say and I didn't know how to say it. I couldn't make it all make sense. Every time I would begin typing the delete button would quickly follow. Nothing seemed good enough. I wanted to write something genuine without being cheesy or cliché, because if you know my sister, you know she is anything but cheesy or cliché.
I hate starting something and not finishing it but I had to walk away. I had to take a moment and prioritize my thoughts. I had to stop thinking about it and trying to force it. I was sitting in a room patiently waiting for my eye brow waxing appointment to begin, a week and a half before the wedding, when I pulled out my cell phone and started to write. And the words just came.
"Unlike some Maid of Honors who may have met the Bride in grade school, or on a sports team, or in college, I met Jody the day my parents brought her home from the hospital. I don't remember much about those first few years, and I am sure that Jody doesn't either, but I have been told by trusted sources that we were inseparable. My Mom even goes so far as to say that I was the first person to make Jody laugh.
Jody was like my little doll - even though she wanted nothing to do with being anyone's doll. She hated dresses, she hated playing house, she hated Barbie's and anything girly. She loved being outside, catching bugs and frogs. Jody was the quintessential tomboy who always marched to the beat of her own drum.
Jody and I only had a few years being a dynamic duo before someone else came along. Once Rachel was born things shifted a bit and we took on our oldest, middle and youngest child roles. Like most middle children Jody became a peacemaker, often mediating arguments between Rachel and I. She was the family comedian and also the apologist. Whenever the three of us would get in trouble and sent to our rooms, it was always Jody who was unanimously nominated to go downstairs, plead our case and negotiate the terms of our punishment.
If you ask Jody she will tell you that being the middle child was not always rainbows and unicorns. There were times when she felt lost in the shuffle and like her voice wasn't always being heard. I think that it wasn't until she met Israel that Jody really found her voice. Israel has taught Jody not to feel bad standing up for herself. He's taught her not to let anyone take advantage of her kind heart and that she is deserving of respect. I have watched as Jody has transformed from a shy little girl into a beautiful, confident woman, who can rock some purple hair.
Being the oldest of three girls I would often wonder what having a brother would be like. Would he be laid back like Jody or dramatic like Rachel? What kind of advice would he give? It would be many years before I would know what having a brother is like first hand - and it is pretty much everything I expected. Like any brother, Israel is not afraid to tell me when I am doing something wrong or how I could be doing something more efficiently. He gives great advice and I know that he would never lead me down the wrong path - and when Izzy has your back, it's like there's an army standing behind you.
One of my favorite Bible verses is Ecclesiastes 4:12. It says "A cord of three strands is not easily broken." There are a couple different interpretations of this verse, but for me, every time I read it I think of my sisters and I. We are a cord made up of three very strong, very stubborn, very loud strands and it takes an equally strong man to break into that bond. I only know of one other man to do it successfully and now Israel makes two.
So, please raise your glasses to one of my favorite couples, Jody and Izzy. Jody, I may have been the first person to make you laugh all those years ago, but I know that Izzy will be the last."
I ugly cried through the entire delivery because I meant every word.
