Don't know if you've noticed, but we've been at this schooling thing for quite a while now. Medical school, internship, residency, chief residency... he's done it all and he's done it so perfectly.
And he is a balance master. Giving his demanding job as much as he needs to, and still having so much left to give to me and our kids.
This man is my life. He makes us laugh, keeps us loose, and can tackle a sink full of dirty dishes or wrangle four children into bed with the best of them. And... he also cuts into eyeballs.
I am so, so proud to have him by my side. (Even if I won't snuggle up to him on an operating day while he's still wearing his scrubs... what if there are, gulp, eye juices on them or something?) Congratulations, my love, on a job well done. You're the best eye-sight saver I know.
You should have your picture on a Wall of Fame or something.... oh hey! Look at that.
You know, I've been thinking a little as I sit here in my very favorite rocking chair tonight surrounded by cardboard boxes. The whole house is filled with boxes, actually, and my heart sinks a little when I think about tomorrow night. Because tomorrow night this favorite rocking chair will not be here in my favorite room. Instead, it will be sitting on a moving truck - crammed in with all of our other furniture. And all of our other belongings. We'll drive away from this home that we love. This place that we love. These people that we love. We'll drive away from the fireflies and the tree-lined freeways. From the squirrels and the Carolina rain falls.
My roots run deep here.
So deep that saving most of them is impossible.
They must be cut.
And, oh, how it hurts.
But... this man. This handsome, caring, goofy man will come with me.
And that makes it so, so much better.
I'm proud of you, Bri! Thanks for graduating.
Now, how about one more year of schooling?