It's Graduation, for Cryin' Out Loud

It started with his first cry, his first smile. Then the milestones became bigger, he rolled over, he sat up.  When he started walking I wondered where the last 9 months went, they flew by. Before I knew it he was talking in full sentences, attending preschool and becoming the person he was meant to be. Heshined his way through elementary school, succeeded in middle school and rocked his way through high school.

It seems as though Tyler’s senior year was like "One LONG Goodbye"....from the last "this" to the last "that" it seemed like I spent the entire year in tears. By the time graduation actually came, I think I was all cried out and more relieved and happy that the night finally came.

The Commencement ceremony was an amazing experience.

I expected to cry a lot. I expected to be an emotional wreck.  I grabbed about two dozen tissues and shoved them in my purse before I left the house.   I needed to be prepared for the Ugly Cry that was about to happen.  As soon as we pulled into the high school parking lot, I became teary-eyed. “I can’t believe this is happening.” I said to myself.

I didn’t cry.

I got out of the car and I did my best speed-walk-while-looking-lady-like-in-a-dress walk.  The parking lot was packed and I wasn’t going to get a good seat!  What if I had to sit in the back?  Gasp!  Plus, I wanted to sit on the side where I could see Tyler enter and walk to the stage.

The seats I found weren’t my ideal seats but it was on the side I wanted.  The gentleman that got stuck sitting next to me was a former MLB player.  I asked if we could talk “baseball” while we waited for the festivities to begin.  Although he probably wouldn’t agree, I felt I dazzled him with my baseball knowledge.  Finally, the music started, "Pomp and Circumstance”.  I grabbed a tissue from my purse.

I didn’t cry.

I watched as Tyler’s classmates entered two at a time, one in each aisle.  Some were smiling, some looked nervous.  Then I saw Tyler in the back of the auditorium.  A lump formed in my throat and my heart swelled with pride.  I watched him walk down the aisle, not making eye contact with anyone.  He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look like he wanted to run either!  I knew he felt anxious because everyone was looking at him.  He’s come such a long way.  I never took my eyes off of him until he sat in his chair on the stage. I let out my breath as he did when he was finally seated.

I didn't cry.

The ceremony moved right along.  The Salutatorian and Valedictorian gave their speeches. The School Board President and Superintendent gave advice and offered their best wishes.  The senior concert choir members sang “Sing Me to Heaven” which was simply beautiful.  Finally, the high school principal did a roll call of the graduates one by one.

I didn’t cry.

I took pictures of Tyler’s friends getting their diplomas while I waited patiently for his name to be called.  When his row stood up, I felt myself sit up taller in my seat.  Earlier, he made me promise not to shout out his name or cheer excessively loud after they announced his name.  I had to be “mature”, he said! I never took my eyes off of him.  I must have taken hundreds of photos documenting every move from standing up to moving inch by inch to the front of the stage...to standing “on the X” while his name was read...to walking to the Superintendent and school board members to receive his diploma....to hugging Coach Owrey, a school board member....and finally walking back to his seat to sit down. Again, we both let out our breath as he sat down.

I didn’t cry.

After all the seniors received their diplomas, the Class President stood to lead them in the traditional “turning of the tassel” ceremony.  The Class of 2014 turned their tassels, and then threw their hats in the air while parents, grandparents, siblings, friends and others clapped and cheered wildly. The students scrambled to gather up their hats when the recessional music began.  I watched and smiled as the graduates left the auditorium. There was nothing but smiles now from the graduates as they exited. I felt so blessed to be there watching my son experiencing that milestone in his life.

I didn't cry.

Graduation also means not seeing the parents of other Class of 2014 graduates regularly.  Some of these parents have become my friends. The ones with whom I sat with at sporting events and school assemblies. The ones who loved my child as much as their own; the ones whose children I likewise loved. We have carpooled and fed and clothed and vacationed and even provided toothbrushes for each other’s children. We have traded advice and complaints and discipline techniques. We have shared in joy and pain, in laughter and tears. And we have done much of this, most of this, while centered on our children’s activities.

Which were ending.

Today, as I reflect on that night, I feel incredibly proud not only of my son but also of the other members of the Shenango High School Class of 2014.  The amount of compassion they have is incredible.  They endured the loss of a classmate early on.  They supported each other through the years when a grandparent or other family member passed.  They were there for one another when families struggled with divorce.  They clung to each other when their beloved English teacher succumbed to cancer.  This is the group that voted Brittany as their homecoming Queen even though she had not been able to attend school since a debilitating neuromuscular disease left her fighting for her life three years ago. They've endured all the pressure and struggles that high school had to give.  As one of the speakers remarked, the Class of 2014 was like a big puzzle and each member is a piece of that puzzle; a piece that is needed to make them whole.

I didn't cry.

You spend 17-18 years teaching, loving, directing, advising, disciplining, tutoring and worrying. Then you have to let go, let them be (cough) adults, just last week they had to ask to use the bathroom, now they are expected to act like and have the responsibilities of an adult. That just seems so insane to me, I don't know how all these parents do it. I am so proud of him, so excited for him but at the same time I don't want him to go.

Next week, I'm sure I'll feel melancholy. I'm sure I'll wonder, as all parents do, where the time has gone. I'm sure I'll wish for just a moment that I could rock him to sleep, read him a bedtime story, or push him on the swings one more time.

I'm sure I’ll cry.

But it won't be because I want time to stand still. It will be because joy and pride sometimes overflow in tears -- and because I am so lucky to be able to watch him grow up, even if that means growing away from me.