“He Will Live On Through Me” – Anniversary Reflections from a Hotel Room June 20, 2025 – 27 Years, One Heart, and the Gift of Love

“He Will Live On Through Me” – Anniversary Reflections from a Hotel Room

June 20, 2025 – 27 Years, One Heart, and the Gift of Love

Tonight, in a hotel room somewhere between memories and miles, the three of us sat down to eat dinner from Buc-ee’s and unwind. The TV was on—ESPN’s E:60—and a story came on that reached into the very core of who I am.

It was about Scot Pollard, former NBA player, husband, father… heart transplant recipient.

At first, it was background. But as his story unfolded, it became clear: this wasn’t just a sports segment. It was about life, death, legacy—and the fragile beat that holds it all together.

Scot, like me, lived with a heart condition. He spent time in the ICU. He waited for a miracle. He lived with the possibility that he might not get to see his family’s future. And when he met the family of the man who gave him that second chance—Casey Angell—their tears and embrace said everything.

It was beautiful. And it was brutal.

Because I know that feeling. I’ve sat in silence with questions no one can answer. I’ve stared into the eyes of my wife and daughter, wondering if I’d get to see the next chapter. And tonight, I cried—not out of fear, but out of love.

Because it’s our anniversary.

Twenty-seven years with Barbi.

Twenty-seven years with the woman who has stood beside me through every surgery, every unknown, every sleepless night and every doctor’s visit. The woman who held my hand when I couldn’t lift my head. The one who prayed when I was too tired to speak. The one who never gave up on me—even when I wasn’t sure I’d make it through.

Barbi, you are the reason I’ve made it this far.

You are the strength behind my steps, the softness in my healing, and the steady presence that reminds me to breathe. You’ve been through more than anyone sees. You’ve suffered quietly, carried weight no one else could carry. And you still smile. Still love. Still show up.

Tonight, as we watched Scot’s story, I felt the full weight of what you’ve carried. And I want the world to know: your resilience is the reason our story is still being written.

Bella, if you ever read this—I want you to remember that your mother is a warrior. And I hope one day you love someone the way she has loved me: fully, fiercely, faithfully.

I hope you’ll remember this truth:

Love doesn’t end. It transforms. It carries. It lives on.

Just like Scot said of his donor, “He will live on forever through me.”

Barbi—you live on through me, too.

Your love is the heartbeat behind my life.

Happy Anniversary, my love.

This is more than a milestone. It’s a miracle. And I thank God for every breath we’ve been given together.

—Brian

Beginnings

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