My eldest son graduated from high school last night. For you, readers of this blog, I had a very long post in mind which discussed how it felt seeing my first born child walk across the same football field, wear the same blue robe, and look up into the same bleachers to search for some of the same members of our family who were there for me so many years ago. I wanted to write at length about milestones we pass along the road in our lives, how I'm now entering into a new phase of parenthood, and a bunch of interesting family dynamics which will now be different.
But instead of making this about me, this is really about him. His experiences are not mine. That's perhaps the most jarring realization. After the ceremony, when I finally found him amid the sea of graduates and well wishers, we shared a long and tight hug. I said into his ear "I love you, and I'm very proud of you."
He kept squeezing, and replied simply but with emphasis "thanks, Dad." That made every challenge I've faced in the last eighteen years worth it.
I'm one proud papa.
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1 comment:
Hi! This is a cool blog! Not sure how I found it. Must have too much time on my hands at the moment, as must you, seeing as you actually keep a blog. Did you see my eldest son, Joel, that night? I did not have the great pleasure of seeing him graduate, since the delinquent got caught breaking into the high school, had to attend alternative school and didn't get to walk. I can laugh about it now - haha.
Glad to see you are a happy family guy and proud papa of a sweet little girl. Love your bike and dog too. We have a white lab mix, Ozzie, who is very cool.
Take care, Mr. Lawrence! -- Mrs. Caldwell
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