I still mother them….

Today I celebrate 41 years at my office. Forty one years. That number hardly even seems real to me.

I started there when I was 19 years old as a college intern with Dr. Gioffre. Nineteen. A kid, really. I had no idea then that what started as an internship would turn into a lifetime.

I graduated college while working there. I got engaged there. I got married. I had my children. I got divorced. I got remarried. I became a grandmother. Life happened there.

And in the midst of all those years, I buried both of my children.

When I think about 41 years, it is impossible not to realize this office has been the backdrop to my entire adult life. These people did not just become coworkers. We grew up together. We have lived life together.

I have been there while others got married, had babies, became grandparents, celebrated huge milestones, and walked through heartbreak. I have watched people lose parents, spouses, siblings, and friends. We have stood beside each other through loss, illness, joy, laughter, hard seasons, and beautiful ones. We have laughed until we cried. We have sat with each other through tears. We have carried each other through things we never imagined we would have to survive.

I remember the day I got divorced. I came home and Dr. Gioffre had left a bottle of wine on my doorstep with a note that said, You got this. You’re stronger than this, but don’t really know it yet.

At the time, I thought that was one of the hardest things I would ever go through. Little did I know life still had much harder things ahead of me. But he was right. Somewhere along the way, he saw strength in me that I had not yet learned to see in myself.

Dr. Gioffre taught me hard work, loyalty, and the importance of relationships. He used to tease me that I would never know how to do a job interview because I was probably never leaving. Turns out, he may have known me better than I knew myself.

Then came Dr. Ryan Robinson.

When Dr. Robinson took the torch, he brought a whole new chapter into my life. If you knew me years ago, you would laugh because technology terrified me. Truly terrified me. I liked paper. Sticky notes. My comfort zone.

Dr. Robinson? He was not having that.

He communicated with me almost entirely through Google Drive. Google Sheets. Shared documents. Spreadsheets. Every single thing seemed to live in the Google world and, honestly, I wanted to pull my hair out some days. But he kept pushing me. Encouraging me. Teaching me.

And little by little, I figured it out.

Somewhere along the way, the woman who was scared of technology became the person embracing it. Using it. Loving it. Dreaming bigger because of it. He taught me to stop being afraid of learning new things and to trust that I was capable, even when I was convinced I was not.

He fans the fearless side of me. The side that says yes to big ideas, community projects, things that sound impossible at first. Everybody deserves somebody in their life who sees something bigger in them before they can see it themselves.

And somehow, 41 years later, I still get to drive a half mile to work every day to a place I truly love. To people I love. Some of my very best friends in the world.

Blessed does not even begin to cover it.

How lucky am I?