Baby Girl Calhoun

As I type we are preparing for a grand adventure, moving from Richmond, Virginia to Rapid City, South Dakota.We are moving to South Dakota and you don’t understand that or know what that means yet, but your Dad and I are so very hopeful that you will love it. Dad is in South Dakota already, and has been for over three weeks at this point. You miss him dearly and ask about him regularly, my go to answer for where Daddy is “Daddy is in South Dakota.” You so far have accepted this answer and provided no further questions about its meaning. You have even started to parrot back to me “South Dakota.”

I do know that you are going to miss our house, you enjoy saying “Ellie home.” But know this, your dad and I did not come to the decision to move us and you across country lightly. It is something that was discussed at length, but we both ultimately feel it is the best decision for you and our family. Your Dad and I have chosen to put you in an environment with a strong extended support system, something we don’t have in Virginia. Your Bammy and Pop Pop are pretty much all we have and they are six hours away in North Carolina. We want more than that for you. You don’t know it yet, but you will be surrounded by family and friends in South Dakota. Time spent with cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, and friends who are more like family will far exceed the stress of moving and relocating our lives. Because when your Dad and I stop, and really think about what is most important to us, it is that you be surrounded by love and support. And we honestly feel the best place for that is South Dakota. We do have great friends here in Virginia (which we will miss dearly) and I don’t want to discount their friendship, but home is really where your heart is and our hearts are in South Dakota.

We love you Ellie, and I hope you love your new home as much as we do!

As you know, you have an extended network of Aunties and Uncles, people that are really important in our lives and that are family regardless of blood relation. Today is the 4th anniversary of Uncle Nick's passing, I know your daddy talks to you a lot about Nick and how they were the best of friends. Daddy has many stories about his and Nick's adventures and I will often catch him telling you these stories while giggling. Daddy and you also listen to Uncle Nick's favorite music together, I think you almost know the words to "see you later, see you soon."

I wanted to share a couple of my favorite memories about Nick, which happen to be the first and last times I saw him. The first time I met Nick was shortly after your Daddy and I started dating, I want to say it was only two or three weeks after our first date. Your Dad called me around 9pm on a weekday (you know I like to go to bed early!) and asked if I wanted to hang out. I was already falling in love with your Daddy, so despite it being so late on a weeknight, I happily agreed. Dad picked me up and told me we were going to meetup with his best friend, who was in town from Spearfish. He said we were going to their absolute favorite place to hangout, Perkins. Being a naive girl from the East Coast, only in Rapid City for a couple months at this point, I had no idea what Perkins was and assumed it was a hip bar or something of the like. Needless to say I was quite surprised when we arrived at a diner, what Aunt Danielle would call an "old folks restaurant." A diner was their favorite hangout? Despite my confusion I went along with it...we sat down and the waitress handed us menus. Just as quickly as she handed them to Daddy and Nick, they replied they wouldn't need them, they were only having a drink. Mind you Perkins does not serve alcohol, so by a drink they meant soda. That's right, your Daddy had brought me to a dingy diner to have a soda. But after the first 30 minutes with these two sipping Dr. Peppers my cheeks hurt from laughing. I couldn't tell you what specifically we talked about, but I remember story after story, some about their time as cadets, some about driving aimlessly, and I distinctly remember hearing Uncle Nick's Wookie impression for the first time. We must have been at Perkins for almost three hours, all the while just drinking soda and laughing or more so giggling. That was the beauty of your Dad and Nick's friendship, it was simple and easy and so terribly fun. It didn't matter to me that is was midnight (and I had to be in the field the next day at 7 am) or that we were in an empty diner, their laughter and connection was so infectious. At the end of the night when our bill arrived, something like $6 total, both Nick and Daddy laid down $10 each...tipping the waitress an amount more than double our bill. It was this night more so than others I really learned who your Daddy was. He loved his friends deeply, but more so he surrounded himself with people, who just like him, loved serving others more so than themselves. Constantly giving...in their jobs, in their lives, and even to surly diner waitresses who were annoyed that they had only ordered Dr. Pepper. I definitely fell more in love with your Daddy that night, because of the person he was and also because of the person who his best friend was.

The last time I saw Nick was on this day 4 years ago. This day and the week or so leading up to it are somewhat of a blur in my mind, punctuated by vivid memories with strong emotions attached. To be honest I know Nick passed on this day, but I can't remember at what time or where we were. Although it must have happened during the day, because we spent the evening with Daddy's other best friends, John and Cory and their wives, at John's family lake house. I remember it being an evening of peace and friendship, we were all at ease, I think mostly because there was some resolution. Even though it was an unpleasant resolution and something none of us wanted, it felt like the first piece of closure we had seen in a week. We spent the evening walking around the lake, reminiscing about the amazing person Nick was. At some point one of Daddy's friends sent a message telling us when they would be driving Nick's donated organs from the hospital to the airport to be flown to waiting recipients. He told us the route the ambulance would be taking, so that we could watch if we wanted. It was somewhat of a hard decision, but we collectively decided it was something we needed to witness. We drove down and parked at a bank behind the hospital (not sure why I remember this detail, but I vividly remember the sign) and got out of our cars and waited. Within five minutes we heard the sirens and soon the ambulance was visible. Nick was being escorted by police cars with lights and sirens. I remember the darkness of the night and how the street was entirely empty. It was just Nick and his escort. The moment he passed by I was flooded with emotion (just as I am now, writing this). It was one of the most moving and profound moments in my life, honestly second only to your birth. I know it was a culmination of emotions from the entire week's events, but it was also much more. I was literally watching Nick give his life for others. He was continuing to give just as he had done every day. Selflessly giving to others and saving lives. I know this was also the moment I let Nick go, because I knew I wanted to remember Nick this way. I wanted to remember the vibrant person that Nick was and in my mind this moment perfectly encapsulated him. He was surrounded by people he loved, by the profession he held so dear and he was about to get on airplane to save lives. That was your Daddy's best friend and that is the moment I let him go.

I am sad you never got to meet him, but you will always know him through your Daddy's memories and stories. I know he will always be with you and I know you would have loved him as much as we did. We love you Ellouise Keegan.