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Mortarboards take flight, balloons descend as the members |
IGUESS YOU COULD SAY I am finished. Done. Wrapped up the job.
Last Saturday, my youngest child graduated from high school.
Jack wasn't at the top of his class, but he certainly shocked his dad by receiving an academic seal on his advanced studies diploma. Especially since Jack chose to take the last quarter of senior year as vacation.
I've spent much of the time since September not thinking about graduation, figuring that if I ignored it, it would go away.
But it didn't.
Where did those years go? Wasn't I just snuggling him for the first time? My heavens! Who is this man standing in front of me in a cap and gown?
I gotta admit, I thought I would be a blithering idiot on graduation day. After all, first day of school this year I sent him off, closed the front door, sat on the couch and cried. Cried. I didn't even do that
As I frantically--and fruitlessly--searched the house last week for the cool camera my dad gave me a few years back, I came across some items I had tucked away and forgotten about. There were tons and tons of pictures: pictures of Jack's eighth-grade graduation and his older brother Bobby's high school graduation, old school portraits, his player's card from travel soccer. Each new find set off more waterworks. I realized then that June 10 was going to be a tough one.
So, thanks to Amy Umble having pity on me and lending me one of her cameras, I was going to take pictures of everything that day--from the time he woke up to the time he went to bed.
It started out just fine. I sashayed into his bedroom at the appointed time, pulled out the camera and snap! snap! snap!
"Mom!" Jack said, pulling the blankets over his head. "What time is it, anyway?"
"Eight o'clock," I chirped.
"I asked for 8:15," he said.
I walked away wondering why graduation day would be any different from a regular school-day morning.
By the time my eldest son, Will, arrived with my daughter, Dawn, and the grandchildren, I was in high gear with the camera. Snapping everything.
Dawn took the camera away. "Calm down, Mom," she said. "Get dressed."
Bobby, who had spent the night, thanked his sister for rescuing him. Dawn, of course, is the only one who could get away with taking a camera away from me.
I reminisced about her graduation day and started crying. I mean sobbing.
By this time, Jack was flying out the door. "Gotta go," he said, giving his sister a high-five for the camera maneuver.
I did get the camera back, though, when we got to school. Snap. Snap. Snap. Thank heavens for digital cameras. The photos I didn't like, I just deleted. And kept snapping.
Just a couple of times during the ceremony, I could feel myself start to get teary-eyed. That was when he marched in with his class, and started looking around for us. And, of course, when his name was called and he walked across the stage. It was the flick of the tassel that got me.
The traditional toss of the mortarboards and dropping of balloon confetti, and it was over.
In the controlled chaos that followed, we gathered near the Chancellor High School sign, on the patch of grass between the school and the parking lot. I had vowed that I wasn't going to take any posed shots, but I succumbed to parenthood and did all the family combinations. I did get one candid of Jack, Will and Dawn that I love. And another of Jack, Bobby and Jack's girlfriend.
And as I write this on Sunday, I think of all the other moms who experienced similar feelings this season.
And that's what graduation really is about, isn't it? Moving on to the next phase. I've graduated, too. And I wish all my fellow graduates the best.
To reach ANNETTE JONES:
Email: abjones@freelancestar.com
