When Words Might Not Be Enough ...

Where do you start to write the goodbye that you don't ever want to say but you fear is standing right in front of your face? How do you begin to say thank you for someone who does so much?

I don't really know. And my words aren't likely to be eloquent or brilliant like so many others are. But I've got to say it. I've got to get something out before I can't even speak.


Dear Ian,

We've watched you grow up before our eyes. You've gone from being just a short stop to being the heart of our team. You've made DC a priority and you've made people a priority. We love watching you play. How you give your all every single time you take the field. How you play every single day. When the team is doing great you support them. When they're struggling you carry them. There is not ever a day I've watched you play and thought that perhaps you could have done more. You never hold back. You never shy away from telling people like it is, or from owning the struggle when it's yours. You talk to the media, face down the hard times and set an example for everyone. You allow others to shine. You make people feel welcome. You embrace the new guys and sing their praises. Even when it might be the very player who eventually takes your place on the field. There aren't many men who do that.

It's a joy to watch you play and to know that when my girls look up to you, they see someone who does it right. Who always takes the high road and who puts the team first. That's a legacy of which you can be proud.

But for us... For me... It's more than just baseball. I'm so honored to have had the chance to work with you. To stand alongside you and make a difference for people beyond baseball. The work you've done at the Nationals Youth baseball academy is tremendous. The kids in DC love spending time with you. Thank you for giving so much of your time to be in the community. Thank you for making these kids feel at home, safe, welcome, and for encouraging them. They notice. You've changed lives.

Closer to home for me: thank you for the gift of hope. You used your time, your resources, and your name to make a difference for those fighting the battle of a life with NF. The campaign last May raised so much money.... And it spread the word. We can't fight what we don't know exists. There are good people doing good work to find a cure and the #EndNF campaign that you started here is helping with that. Not only the money and the time last year though... The event you hosted on the field in Atlanta. Thank you for letting those kids come down, hang out, take in BP and meet you. Thank you for taking time out of your day and your routine to spend some time with them. Thank you for providing passes and access and for being genuine with them. For asking about their circumstances. For sharing a moment with each of them.

And thank you for giving me the gift of a friendship with Ethan, Jan, and Rick. I may never have met them, except for the #EndNF campaign last year, and today I don't know where I'd be without them. Ethan challenges me to think differently, and he's the bravest young man I know. I am blessed to know and love him. You made that possible.

As I watch what may be your last game wearing the uniform of the team I love, please know that wherever the Lord leads you next, you'll always be loved here in Washington. We are proud to have had you as a leader on this team. I'm a better person and a better servant in the community because of you. Thank you for everything, both on and off the field. My kids and I wish you, Chelsey, and the boys the best of luck and much success always. You're in our hearts forever.

With love from Natstown,
Jen
@vandygirl1998