Dear Katie,

In exactly 53 minutes, you will zip up your graduation gown, adjust your tassel and begin walking towards the stage that holds your diploma. And, if I know you at all, your iPhone will be tucked somewhere inside the folds of that gown just so you can text throughout the ceremony.

I am so proud of you, Katie.

I’ll never forget the day I met you. V and N came to me and said “There’s this girl we know who wants to be in leadership in Starlite, but didn’t fill out an application before the deadline.” I remember replying “Well, maybe she’ll do it next semester” and walking back into my office. I was sitting at my desk, writing an email when the thought came to me — “I should meet with this girl.” I went out to where V and N were working and asked them if they could get a hold of you and ask you to come in for a meeting.

I am so proud of you, Katie.

You arrived 10 minutes later and took the seat in front of my desk. I remember asking you what area of the ministry you wanted to volunteer in only to hear you reply “Any part that doesn’t work with kids or youth.” This was, of course, unfortunate seeing as we were a ministry that served kids and youth. And yet, somehow, you ended up on the team after that one long conversation in my office.

I am so proud of you, Katie.

It’s been almost four years since that afternoon in my office and I think it’s safe to say that you ended up working with more kids and youth than you could have ever dreamed would cross your path. You’ve worked at programs, stayed up all night at events, ran the office and everything in between. You’ve taken initiative and yet served humbly, always wanting the best for whoever else is in the room.

I am so proud of you, Katie.

Your work in Starlite has been truly outrageous. You’ve been on playgrounds with elementary school girls and in cafeterias with middle school girls, all of them adoring you. And yet perhaps your most lasting, defining work has been with our group of college girls, the ones who all want to be wherever you are. You are famous to them and I suspect you always will be.

I am so proud of you, Katie.

If this wasn’t enough, I also got to be your roommate and friend outside of Starlite. A hundred memories come to mind, all at one time: that one trip to Sonic when we both should have been writing papers; the time you laid on the floor while the puppies jumped all over you; making sure you were sound asleep upstairs while Eric snuck into the house to set-up your Valentine’s Day surprise.

I am so proud of you, Katie.

In just a few minutes you’ll have a diploma in the hand that is displaying a beautiful engagement ring. We’ll take pictures of you on the green, green grass and go to lunch wherever you want, your family and friends celebrating you. And then it’ll be time to go to your house and take the sheets off your bed, pack your pillows away. We’ll load your clothes into your car and carefully lay your favorite mirror in the backseat. And then we’ll stand there beside your packed car, saying goodbye.

And I know it isn’t the last time I’ll see you, of course. In just a few weeks I’ll be there for your last wedding shower, a chance for us to celebrate you again. It’ll just be a couple of weeks after that before I’m hanging my dress in the backseat of my car and coming to stand with you as you marry the love of your life. I’ll kiss your cheek and tell you that you’re the most beautiful bride that’s ever lived because, truly, you will be, Katie.

And so I can’t figure out why I’m crying so hard while I write this, knowing that I’ll see you again after today. I suppose it’s just the thought of seeing your car packed, knowing that I won’t be able to let myself into your house whenever I want, knowing I can’t see you whenever I want. It’s bittersweet tears, because I know that, by saying hello to this new season of your life, you have to say goodbye to the season that’s coming to an end today.

I love you, Katie.

amy beth