It’s no secret that I wear my heart on my sleeve. I shed tears when I’m happy, I shed tears when I’m scared, I’ve even been known to shed tears when I’m frustrated. I can’t count how many times the men in my family have walked in on the only female – me – in our home crying over a video that someone shared online. Some day their eyes will roll right out of their heads if they see me crying over another America’s Got Talent audition. So you can imagine the waterworks that were anticipated for June 11th – Century High School graduation day for the class of 2016.
This past spring offered plenty of opportunities for waterworks over the impending graduation. A beautiful Sunday morning in May found me unsuccessfully holding back tears in front of our church congregation while I laid a hand of prayer on my graduate alongside other parents and their graduates. Later that week, during a completely innocent conversation with family at the dinner table, I was brought to tears over the idea that my younger son would be doing all chores himself once fall rolled around and Benjamin would be off at college. There was even an occasional pout when he’d rather spend time with his friends over watching Bravo TV with me. Can you imagine? No contest, right?
Gratefully, I have a few close friends who have been here before. They shared their wisdom and their experiences with me, and in those naive middle school years, I locked away every word of advice for senior year. “Let them do their own laundry, they have to learn.” “Do their laundry, they’ll be gone soon enough and you won’t be able to do it again.” “Don’t be there whenever they want you, they have to know that you have a life too.” “Be around as much as you can, you never know when they’ll want to talk.” “Make a decision and stick to it.” “Be flexible, teenagers are ever changing.” Polarizing words of wisdom – valuable in their own ways. However, I opted to do whatever he asks and to be available at (nearly) all times.
I’ll admit, I still make my 18-year-old a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at 11pm if he asks me to – because in two short months, he won’t be here to ask. And yes, even after four years of constant reminders to try on existing formal wear in advance because I will not go shopping last minute if something doesn’t fit – I still found myself in line at one store or another on a whirlwind shopping spree, probably spending more than I would have if I could have done it at leisure. However, each of those shopping trips brought valuable face time with my son. We had laughs and conversations that otherwise would have been lost if we weren’t searching for the right shade of lavender to match his date’s homecoming dress. Graduation day was no different. Never mind that I asked several times if there was anything he’d need. We still found ourselves at Mens Wearhouse and JC Penney in search of just the right graduation attire. On that milestone day, I had another opportunity to have one-on-one face time with my adult son.
A month before graduation, we took a trip – just the two of us – to Estes Park, Colorado. We laughed, we checked off a bucket list item by seeing two moose in the wild; we got lost, we marveled over amazing views, we climbed a mountain, and we had meals that involved conversations with direct eye contact and revelations of the teenage mind. He rarely had his phone, he engaged with me and talked to me in a way that had been missing for a long, long time. I will always treasure that time with him. That trip was just one more step toward watching him graduate.
When Pomp and Circumstance played as the graduates stepped out onto the Mayo Civic floor, my heart raced. Many of these kids were just kindergartners when we met. Some of them were in little league football pads or baseball cleats when our paths crossed the first time. Over the years some of these kids have lounged in our basement and stoked bonfires, and ate meals as a family with us. A few of them have lingered in our kitchen with me and my husband telling us all about their shenanigans – for better or worse! A few of those faces hug me and call me “mom”…and each of those kids have my heart. My racing heart subsided as the band and choir played. The racing heart diminished as the speeches were given. In the moment that my son crossed the stage to graduate and accept his diploma, I was so filled with pride and awe that there was no room for tears. This was not a sad moment. This was not the moment I had been dreading. It was inspiring. My heart was full, as he shook hands with his principal and professors, I was awestruck. He was ready. And so was I.
Those late night PB&Js, those last minute dashes into the world for ties and ugly sweaters, that trip to Colorado, that evening with a house full of teenagers instead of adult cocktails at a friend’s house on New Year’s Eve….they weren’t failed parenting moments like they sometimes felt at the time. They were preparing me for that moment when he crossed the stage. I didn’t feel cheated. I’m making the most of every moment he gives me – and taking some of those moments he isn’t willing to give. In the end, when he crossed that stage to graduate, the tissues stayed in their package, and my eyes stayed dry. And my heart is full.
