Bekkah-isms

You'd think since I'm the creative type (i.e., writer and designer) that I'd do a better job at capturing my own child's "isms." Anybody with a child knows what I'm talking about. Isms are those little comments that come out of the blue that, when taken out of context, make no sense at all; but when you are able to relate it to something in your close proximity, it makes perfect sense. Bekkah is full of those isms, and she keeps us laughing on a daily basis. She also gets away with some of those isms that her sisters never could. After all, she speaks the plain, honest truth. Like the time we were at a local Jason's Deli, and we saw Mark Richt, coach of the Georgia Bulldogs. Our two oldest girls, both teenagers, were in awe and tried to act cool. They would have sooner dropped dead than speak to him. However, from behind the two sisters emerges tiny 11-year-old Bekkah the Braveheart with blonde hair, blue eyes and glasses. "Hey, Mark!" He looks around. "Mark!" she shouts again. Finally he spots her and waves. Then at the point of pure embarrassment to her sisters, she holds her hand up to her ear in a phone gesture and shouts, "Call me!" He gives her a big smile and waves at her again, then walks out the door. Who would've thought you could just call out his name and he'd answer? Her sisters were mortified, yet laughing along with everyone else. Bekkah was grinning from ear to ear. It was priceless.

Bekkah was so looking forward to some down time at Gramma's house during Christmas vacation this year, watching Criminal Minds (yes, I let her watch that show... she's a fanatic about it) and Ghost Whisperer. To her chagrin, her second day at Gramma's was spent Christmas shopping with her cousin Sarah at the mall and a few other places. Now, had it been the first shopping trip of the season, she probably would have been more excited. However, between family trips and school outings with her class, this was probably about the seventh Christmas shopping trip she'd been on in the last three weeks. That's enough for anyone to throw up their hands. So I asked her when I picked her up the next evening about her time with Gramma and Sarah and where they went. Her reply was quite animated, hand gestures and all. "Up and down! Up and down! And THEN, we did it AGAIN! I wanted to throw up!" Apparently they'd been through the mall several times, up and down the escalators. That was not quite the reaction I'd envisioned with her favorite cousin who'd been away at college for several months. So much for warm and fuzzy. But as with any kid, I don't always get to hear about that.

Two of her latest and favorite isms are, "I love you SO much" and "I miss you SO much," with all the emphasis on all the right words. She can be downright sappy at times. One day her stepdad Mike came home from a business trip, and Bekkah ran up to him, wrapped her arms around him in a full, strong embrace, and declared, "Mike, I missed you SO much." The tall man with the deep voice just melted. Not two hours later, she was asked to put up a toy at bedtime. She kissed it and said longingly, "I'll miss you SO much." Mike and I just looked at each other, wondering how she could miss an inanimate object for a few hours as much as her stepdad for several days. But to her, all things are equal and precious, and that's part of her magic.

Our family has been most fortunate to witness something truly amazing with her gift. Now, for clarification purposes, we have a blended family. Mike's wife passed away when his girls were 10 and 6; my first husband and I divorced when Bekkah was 3. Mike and I, who have known each other for several years, married five years ago when our girls were 8 (Bekkah), 9 (Emily) and 13 (Abbey), respectively. Our now 18-year-old daughter Abbey has been away at UGA for the last several months, with only two visits home. She's not one for hugs, much less kisses, and doesn't show much emotion except when it comes to Georgia football, but really, that's more about passion than emotion. Enter Bekkah, the youngest. She is the only person allowed to hug Abbey, but that's only because Bekkah won't take no for an answer. The rest of the family knew immediately when Abbey arrived home from school for Christmas break; as soon as the front door shut, Bekkah scurries as fast as she can from the family room into the kitchen. With a long squeal of "Aaaaaabbey!!" she wraps her arms around her as tight as she can and says, "I missed you SO much!" The small-framed girl who lost her mother at such a young age and has not let anyone else into her personal space since that time, gives Bekkah a huge pass. Abbey doesn't shrug her away or roll her eyes like she does with everyone else, but stands there and accepts her strong hug, returning the affection with a pat on her stepsister's back. To Bekkah, that pat means the world. And she has her sister back if only for a short while. I'm not sure who missed the other more. This scene brought a tear to both Mike and me. The two girls have been inseparable for a week and a half. What a gift.

One day I'll write a book about Bekkah's isms, if I can remember them all. Until then, I plan to enjoy the isms each and every day.