Graduation Blues

 

 

 

 

 

 

With two kids graduating, I was bound to have a few sentimental moments. Of course I hide this from my humorous husband. He’d laugh, which I totally don’t get. I learned of his strange reaction to my tears after watching Forest Gump together for the first time. It’s the unsaid, unexpected sweet moments of human kindness that twist my throat into a knot. Forest meets his son for the first time, and I have to hold back, take deep breaths, and control the sniffles. If it’s on again, I may leave the room to go blow my nose. 

I was fine watching Aaron march down the Middle School track to his seat on the field, was fine during the first two speeches about setting goals in high school…but when the class president spoke about how challenging it was for the kids after super-storm Sandy wrecked their homes and school, my eyes filled. From the top bleacher, I saw a community that shared the same trial, got through the worst of it, and still has challenges ahead. I prayed for all the children, and thanked God for them and my sunglasses.  

A southwesterly breeze blew ocean smells our way as a peewee little league game played on the field behind the bleachers. Strange to hear the smack of a ball and homerun cheering during a graduation ceremony. The sounds of baseball brought me back to Aaron’s T-ball days, when he hit a double, but abandoned second base to get a drink. I smiled and clapped as his name was called. My heart fluttered with a mix of pride, love, and memories. Gene asked if I needed a tissue. So much for hiding emotions…I was ready to go home. 

Four days later, we’re at the same place for Andrew’s high school graduation. This time we’re two hours early and melting in the morning sun. I’m too hot to cry. The sun must’ve drained every ounce of water from my body. While waiting for the procession to begin, I focus on what other moms wear; why couldn’t I have a cute, comfortable sundress to replace my long grey pants that soak up every UV ray? Too bad the storm flooding swallowed half my clothes. 

Not until it’s over and we hunt for him in the crowd do my emotions strike. In two months, he will move into his dorm a few states away. I’ll have to trust God to watch over him. As Andrew poses for pictures with friends, I imagine gushing with tears when I hug and congratulate him…but when I finally do, I’m in control of the dreaded sniffles. After all, Gene is ready to capture the moment and share it on Facebook. I’ll have to cry later.