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| Stephen walking the highway procession to graduation |
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| The Graduate! |
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| The Graduate with mom and sister |
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| The Graduate with Dad |
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| Stephen, age one, just beginning his life's adventure |
Yesterday
our firstborn graduated from college. Imagine the band playing “Pomp and
Circumstance,” taking pictures outdoors with the sun shining on our son’s cap
and gown and smelling the fresh cut grass which brings to mind new growth and
new beginnings as our graduate enters the next chapter in his young adult life.
Okay, now erase that picture because that’s someone else’s graduation.
Since
FIT is in Manhattan, Stephen told us the graduation was going to be at Radio
City Music Hall, where it was when I graduated from the same school. We were
all set to take the train in and celebrate Stephen’s special day by going out
to a nice restaurant after the ceremony. Not sure how or when plans changed,
but three days before his graduation, Stephen informed us it was being held at
the Arthur Ashe Stadium, next to Citi Field. That changed everything.
He
had to be there by nine o’clock, so we left early to allow for the usual rush
hour traffic. Who picked this time? Three
blocks away from our house, I prayed
for a safe drive in the rain. I think God whispered, “The rain is the least of
your worries. You forgot the tickets to graduation.” That was a “Phew!” moment.
We only wasted ten minutes turning around and still had plenty of time to get
him there early.
But
traffic. And more traffic. By the time we reached the exit, the line of traffic
stopped moving. Thirty minutes passed and we hadn’t moved an inch. We saw one
graduate hop out of a car and start walking along the highway…then another…and
another. Stephen threw on his robe and joined the procession. In pouring rain,
young ladies dressed in high heels walked in mud. Stephen couldn’t find his
dress shoes that morning, so he wore sneakers—which he decided to tie in the
rain.
From
the time Stephen got out to walk, another hour passed before we were able to
park. And from this long-awaited parking spot, we had to walk twenty minutes in
the rain to get to the stadium. Stephen had my only umbrella, but we had hoods.
Even though we were over an hour late, we didn’t miss anything. Thank God they
delayed the ceremony, or they’d have had a lot of empty seats among the graduates.
In
all the craziness of the drive there, I forgot to get emotional. My thoughts
were more like: “I wish Stephen decorated his cap so I could find him among the
sea of blue squares. How many more names do they have to call? Where are we
going to eat? I’m hungry.” All sentimental feelings would trail behind until
basic needs were met.
I
didn’t think of the day he was born, or his first steps; our homeschool days, or
watching him play sports; his high school years of learning to play the guitar
and trying to become a rock star, or his first two years majoring in classical
music before discovering his love for art and computer animation… and all the
experiences in between the years. I didn’t think about the infinite number of
times I prayed for him since I first cradled his newborn body in my arms. I
didn’t think about how blessed we’ve been all these years.
Okay,
now I’m ready to cry. I am also excited to see Stephen’s passion to do what he
loves.
Just
as my husband and I trusted God to help us raise our son, we have to trust Him
to guide his future. One down, four to go.
“Train
up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from
it.”
Proverbs 22:6
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