Dear Mississippi Friends.

Dear Mississippi Friends,

Three and a half years ago, when we moved to McComb, Mississippi from my home state of South Carolina - away from family and all of the friends I had ever known - I cried. With my hands on the steering wheel and my eyes focused on the rearview mirror, I cried out because of fear. Because of the unknown. And because I never thought I’d find friends like you.

During our short time here, in the little bungalow on Virginia Avenue, Justin and I have changed a lot. We’ve grown up a lot. Our comfort zones have been stretched, and our trust in God has never been more necessary. The tests we have faced have brought us such special memories: memories that you’ve each helped shape.

We have welcomed many changes here, and with each transition came friends to see us through to the other side. From figuring out a new town, to becoming new parents, then on the roller coaster ride of our second child –  and his spina bifida – you guys have hugged and prayed and laughed with us. You have cried and shown more love than we are deserving of. For that, we will be forever grateful, and forever indebted. You have been exactly what we needed through each new stage.

Many of you have lent your homes at meal times, baby clothes for our sweet ones, and your hands when our own simply weren’t enough. You have lent us your hearts, and you have touched ours in a forever-changed kind of way.

You have loved us. You have loved our babies.  The love that we share as a family was nurtured with the love that you have shown to us. We are joyful because of your friendship, and we are thankful because of your kindness.   

As our time in Mississippi comes to a close - as we prepare for more transitions and more of the unknown - we look at what you’ve taught us. You, our friends, have taught us that great friendships can come from the unexpected and from the brand new. You have shown us that it doesn’t take blood to make you family, and it doesn’t take history to make best friends.

So, as we head towards the Florida line, my hands will be on the steering wheel, and my eyes will be focused ahead. Not because we won’t miss your presence, your hospitality, and your generosity, but because you all have taught us how to face change without fear. You have all played a part in the special memories we have made here and have helped make this an unforgettable time in our lives. We are grateful for each and every one of you. From the bottoms of our hearts: Thank you, for all you’ve done.

With love,

The Tysons

Dear Ellery,

Your restlessness caught up with you tonight, as you've already been awake twice, and it's only 11:15. 

Each time calling for me to come. Come lay with you. 

So, each time I did. I rubbed your back, I sang your song, and each time I told you how much I love you. 

Your response was the same every time. With your eyes still closed, you lifted your hands above your head and asked, "like this?"

Yes, darling, like that, and so much more than you'll ever know. 

Your two year old self needs me, so I come.

I'll always come.

Always. 

Wheels.

Justin and Ellery went to Lowes after dinner to get a few things for Justin to make Elam a small wheelchair. 

Tonight, while reading books before bed, we were talking with Ellery about her day.

Our conversation went something like this:

 Me: 'Where did you and daddy go this evening?'

Ellery: 'The store!' 

Me: 'For what?' 

Ellery: 'To make Elam some wheels' 

Justin: 'Do you know what he's going to do with wheels?'

Ellery: 'He will roll and roll and roll'

Justin: 'yes, that's the plan.'

Ellery: 'And he will pull my hair!'

Justin: 'yes, I suppose that will probably happen, too.' 

*Elam just loves to get his hands in those precious blonde locks of hers any chance he gets. And she's already having internal conflicts about his future mobility.