Brother graduated from highschool this weekend.
I won't say I'm proud because he informed us that, "Graduating from highschool isn't something to freak out over. If you're going to say you're going to be really proud of me, I'm going to think you think I'm really, really stupid."
Instead, I'll say I'm proud for a thousand other reasons, more important than education, and running much deeper than a diploma -
I'm proud of the way he knows who he is, where he's going and where he's come from.
I'm proud of his terribly ridiculously fabulous good looks, his athletic ability, and the way he has triumphed over difficulties such as moving across the country right before his senior year, a tough bout with Chrone's disease and a tricky knee dislocation in the midst of his last year playing basketball. Not only has he, "played on," he's done it with care, and with an open ear to those around him. And when the doctor tells him that, "playing on" is no longer an option, he's sitting on the bench cheering for everyone else - physically, mentally, spiritually.
I'm proud of countless trips to help the needy in Alaska, ministry to the broken on his campus, and the way he has given of his time and energy to his friends and family on a regular basis.
And lastly, I am proud of the way that he treats women with respect. I am proud when I look at the way that he loves me. His undying affection for me, his kindness towards me and his acceptance of me for who I am makes me a better person, a stronger woman and a more confident individual, every day.
I love you, Ry guy.