Beatrice Screamin’ Rodi

She thought her name was Beatrice Screamin’ Rodi. It is actually Beatrice Freeman Rodi. Our BeBe.

It hurts a good bit that she lives an hour and a half away. She is a sophomore at UGA. Ideally she will be a doctor who heals people who need it most like in rural Georgia, inner city Atlanta or across the world and on the side she will have a bikini design company. She amazes me. She is a backbone to our family and the middle child glue. I am lucky to know her. I ask her advice and I listen. I wonder how she is so wise.

It is perfect that her birthday is always by Thanksgiving because I am thankful for her soul. I am thankful that I get to be her mom and I am thankful that the universe gets to benefit from her existence. To know her is to love her.

She teaches me- to be proud of myself, to eat homemade mac and cheese, to not let dogs slobber on you, to french braid and fish tail, to embrace rap music or trap music or whatever it has evolved into, to use your hips to push your way to the stage at a concert just like she did in soccer, to dress like you like, to wear cool sneakers with formals, to never judge people by their clothes and most importantly that reacting in anger is useless.

She loves joining people for a game of soccer or volley ball or dancing. She loves babies and puppies but not most dogs. She loves chocolate and Nutella. She swims even when the ocean is freezing. She doesn’t like most vegetables. When she was a baby, I saved granola bar wrappers and put celery or carrots in the wrapper and then she would try it. She likes dresses. Hardly any makeup ever. She takes very good care of her skin. Her hair is like cotton candy and tangles up horribly. If she has an awful teacher or a horrible coach, she doesn’t complain or take it personally- she charges through. She collects sneakers and bikinis. She has an amazing sense of color. Her artwork even as a preschooler was so pleasing and cheerful. Her taste in boys is wildly variable and I think that is because she loves so many people. She can befriend anyone but doesn’t suffer fools. She doesn’t do chores at home but she will babysit and run errands. She is a support and a best friend to each of her siblings. She is the better half to so many of us. I just feel better when she is home. She builds us up and she would never let anyone knock us down. I think we all need her so much. I wonder who she needs. I wonder where her sustenance comes from- her books, her ocean, her travels, her friends? I pray I don’t deplete her but that in giving she receives. She truly is a Thanksgiving baby.