Mark has been promoted for the third time in two years.

Two weeks after I gave birth to Finley, he took a leap of faith and changed careers to work in mental health care. I’ve got to tell you I didn’t want him to.  Perhaps you will be disgusted to know that I found it a little bit distasteful. Not fitting with my pretty little world. Mostly because I am stupidly ignorant about what it takes to care for the kind of people that Mark does.

Because Mark is unusual. He is gentle and softly spoken and quietly authorative. And he is shy. Terribly shy. But maybe you wouldn’t know it, because when he talks, he smiles like nobody else does, and he reaches out and touches people. Even strangers. And more than this, more than all of this, he listens. He is perceptive and  he hears what you say, and though sometimes what he say’s back comes out a little jumbled, you know he understands and that he will do what he can to help. Listening matters. Kindness matters. And above all else Mark is kind.

This is, I suppose a love letter. It is all the words I fail to say on this blog on a daily basis. All the words I sometimes forget to say at all. You all know he drives me to distraction sometimes.

It is a love letter to the boy I have adored for fourteen years. My little boy’s Daddy and my best friend. Growing up together means that I feel like I know him inside out and I hardly know him at all. I know the boy I lie next to every night, but I have no idea who the man who goes out into the world everyday is. Maybe I hardly know him at all.

Today when he left for the interview for the new job, I could tell he was quietly assured, but I was prepared for his disappointment. I was ready with my "never minds". I was steeling myself for another few years of rubbish money and terrible hours. I was waiting with a conciliatory hug.

But we didn’t need it. Five minutes after he walked through the door, his company rang to say that the job was his, and while he smiled to himself, I cried for the kids we were and the grown ups we are, and nearly burst with pride for my lovely, lovely Mark.

Congratulations Sweetie. This isn’t a job, it is a vocation.

We are going to be alright. x