That time of year again.
But then isn’t every time of year, THAT time of year in one way or another? I think so.
But the time of year I am talking about now is graduation time.
Kids graduating from High School. Freedom! Blessed freedom from the horrors of having to get up EVERY DAY and go to school where they MAKE YOU DO STUFF THAT MEANS NOTHING!!
One day our kids will understand that they lived in a dream world for the first 18 years of their lives.
I was talking to a woman I work with on Sunday about her son’s graduation. I asked her when she started crying. She said that she didn’t. She is a liar, and I told her so. No one goes to their childs graduation and doesn’t cry. No one. I did, and I have the published proof.
I have 4 kids. Three of them didn’t have a choice of me as their Father, and one chose me. When I went to my eldest daughters graduation, it was in Phoenix, Arizona, with her mother and her step-father. I had to seperate myself from them so that I could sob my Dad tears in private. When my eldest son graduated, it was in Hartland, Michigan and I pretty much sobbed throughout the entire proceedings. When they released the graduates I was this 6′, 300 lb, sobbing juggernaut pushing my way through the crowd so that I could be the first to hug that boy.
And this is the child who thinks that he is not my “favorite”. Kids, sheesh.
After I finally put him back down on the floor, and pouring tears down his neck, I got this tap on my shoulder from a guy with a camera asking if I would be ok to have a picture published. What did I care? I had just seen my first born son graduate. A couple of days later the boy calls and says we made it on the front page of his local paper. Cool.
The youngest son’s graduation was a tad bit different. He graduated from the same school as his older brother, but there were no photogs around to record the event. Just me, my tears, and a lot of hugging. And some drama having to do with seats, the boys girlfriend, and his Mother. Who should learn how to make plans prior to an event happening, THEN she would have seats where she wanted them.
Now we have 5 years until The Princess graduates. I will be a mess, without a doubt. We chuckle about it, but it is something that my kids expect from me and I won’t let them down.
So don’t tell me that you didn’t cry when your son/daughter walked across that stage. I know that you did. And you know that you should. Because now is the time for those kids to start really flexing those wing muscles that you have been helping them build up. They are going to fall, and they are going to get bruised up. But they have to keep at it. That is their job.
And ours is to keep wiping away those tears.