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Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Thank you, Kelly

Dear Kelly,

This is long over due, but I want to write you a thank you letter.

Image found here.

There are a few things I’ve wanted to say and occasionally do so in passing, like it’s just a spontaneous thought or something that came to my mind in the moment, but today I want to let you know how much I appreciate you.

First of all, you are amazing. I’ve never known anyone like you. You work ethic blows me away. You have an idea and follow through with it before I can say “uncle.” If you don’t know how to do something, you research it out until you’re an expert. You are patient with yourself and find fun even when the task seems impossible.

You are organized. As a fellow junk collector, my home looks like I’m, well, a junk collector. You’re a junk collector too, but your home looks like you’re a professional decorator. You find a piece of trash and have an idea of how to make it beautiful. You make it happen. You’re an artist for sure.

We meet six years ago at church. Back then, you were the mother of only four girls (not six like today) and just started your master’ degree. You wore tailored suits, taught drama at a local junior high and held hands with a handsome Mr. Right. One Sunday you taught a class in church. I specifically remember you had a rag doll and a Barbie doll on display at the front of the room. “Which doll do you feel like today?” you asked the ladies in attendance.

I think every single one of us raised our hands when you held up the worn out, old rag doll.

Image found here.

Your lesson was on how we could all feel like Barbie dolls, fresh and beautiful.

Image found here.

The message was to find the beauty within and believe in ourselves. I really loved that lesson.

You have all girls; I have all boys and our paths didn’t cross much, but last year, I asked you to read something I wrote. It was my manuscript of Colors of the Sea. You were enthusiastic about it, so sweet, and read my book in a week. While reading it, you called every day or so, excited about something in the plot. You really got into the story and loved the characters as much as I did. You made excellent suggestions and my book was better because of it.

When I needed a professional editor I knew I had to ask. You are a published playwright, a professional drama teacher and have such an attention to detail; you were the one I hoped would do it. I was nervous when I made that call. I was asking something big. I was asking you to do something I couldn’t do myself. Without hesitation you said “Yes.” Actually, you said you were hoping I’d ask for your help. And when I offered to pay you for your time, you came back and said editing it would be a pleasure and you wouldn’t accept any payment. That’s when I started to cry.

The edit took about three months. I loved working with you on this project. The day it was finished, I came over to do a final read-through. You showed me a few projects you were working on around your house, like refinishing your entertainment center or something huge like that. You showed me Aspen’s latest baby picture that Mr. Right took. I walked through your kitchen and remember thinking “How does she keep it so clean?”

I asked if you wanted to look at a silly little blog I just started called “My Dear Trash.” We sat down at your computer and you looked over my first few entries.

“I want to be a follower,” you said and became the very first follower of My Dear Trash (thank you for doing that). And it’s like it all came together at that moment.

“Do you want to do this blog with me; feature your garage sale finds and stuff?” I asked, quite elegantly.

You said:

Image found here.

I knew you were talented, but seriously, neither one of us had any idea how this would all take shape. I had no idea you would win practically every blog contest you enter. You had no idea I was such an EBay freak. I had no idea you owned a professional sander and wood cutter. You had no idea how desperately I wanted to get published. I had no idea you were Martha Stewart multiplied by a million. I did know you were the sweetest friend and someone I wanted to be like.

Kelly, we almost have 100 followers. Can you believe it? What do you want to do to celebrate? Let’s go out to lunch or better yet, let’s go thrifting. Or let’s watch our kids play and brainstorm. This has been the most fun ever.

I just want to say thank you and I cherish our friendship and you’ve taught me so much.

You’re the best.



  1. Now you've made me cry. Thank YOU for the amazing example you are to me of service, love and patience. Love ya!

  2. Okay, enough crying you two, get back to wowing us with your creativity. I can't even dream up the things you manage to actually do! You are both fabulous, thanks for sharing with us!