Fin

***All pictures courtesy of my sister-in-law, Ali. Thanks, Ali-A-Oh!

Let's try this again, shall we? It's the diet Coke version of my first draft, but it's the best I could muster. 

I have a friend whose husband was finishing law school right as Adam was starting. I remember crafting her jealousy-laced emails thick with envy and lust. I wanted so badly to be where she was, standing at the top of the mountain, thumbing my nose and screaming, "Heeeyyyy yoouuuuu guuuuyyssss" at the low-lifes still making the climb without their Nalgenes in the hot July heat.

I only kid. She didn't thumb her nose at me. In fact, she offered me really good advice at the times when I most needed really good advice. My personal favorite: "If you think that homewrecker LaSat was bad, wait until you meet Barbie." She was so right. Everyone should have a Kate.

The first time Adam went through the stress of finals, I thought, "IF, and that's a big, fat, honkin' "if", he makes it through this, he won't be worth shooting." Turns out, the joke was on me, because not only did he make it, but he is STILL worth shooting! In fact, I'm typing this with one hand because I'm loading my gun with the other. Don't tell Adam, though. Democrat, and all that.

And speaking of democrats, here are the two Jewfriends who kept Adam sane. Bill and his fiance, Rachel are on the left and Ben and his wife, Daphna, the right. Ben will graduate in the Fall because he took a semester off to putter around the White House with Obama. I've had coneys bigger than Rachel and Daphna. Combined.

When Adam was one year in and we were stuck on the side of that damn mountain without our Nalgenes in the hot July heat, I pictured this day over and over again. And, just like I pictured it, it was the best day ever.

He’s done! Finished! Gradumacated himself from one of the top law schools in the nation, and, if you’ll allow me to brag for a second, he did it with honors and his soul!

I acted like I’d birthed him myself the entire day, fixing his hood and answering for him: “How does he feel? He’s excited! Aren’t you excited, Adam? Tell the people how excited you are. He’s excited!” And when they called his name as he crossed the stage, I cried like the baby girl that I am. Heaven help me, I'm crying again now.

Even though he’s now a “juris doctor,” I am flat REFUSING his request to call him “doctor.” We’re currently in negotiations about “esquire.”

I'm about to wrap this mother up, but one last thing.

Adam, his parents, and I went to the Dean's Reception - which is a fancy cocktail party at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum - to celebrate graduation.

Adam paraded us around between his classmates and professors (who all faked personal relationships like some sort of seasoned thespians). All we really wanted to do was shovel down more of the amazing eats- kobe beef sliders, chocolate-covered cheesecake bites, you're picking up those paw-paws. We were just trying to get Adam's tuition money's worth.

My whole point in mentioning this is because of Gary, who looks like he could be worn in a Baby Bjorn on Adam's chest and was, in fact, my favorite part of the whole night. He was Robin to Adam's Batman on their law journal and they have a funny relationship. Plus, his family is the most fabulous group of West Virginians you'll ever meet. 

Adam and I will most likely do another post or two (or twenty) about law school because we're still processing it. PTSD and shiz. We're also still processing 9-11 and Michael Jackson's death, but we'll pull through, thanks.