Graduation

 

Tomorrow morning you are going to stand on a football field with hundreds of other kids your age. People will speak. Some parents will dab tears. Others will be elbowing their way to a prime position in order to take a photo with their zoom lens. I do not need to tell you which group(s) I will be in. I cry at graduations. I always have. There is something about the music … the smiles … the hope … the impending change … the families beaming with pride … the pain … the struggles … the victories … the failures. It is all there walking in front of me. The students do not speak, but I see so much in the way they walk and in their smiles. Everyone has a story. At a high school graduation, each person’s story must be limitless. High school is a time of such great change. Four years full of so much laughter and even tears. It is all out there on that field. I watch it all stride by as I fight back tears and then dab them.

I write this for you, my sweet boy. In just a few hours, you will be one of those students walking across the stage. What will you be thinking? What are your hopes and your goals? What are your fears? I know you are ready for the next step and adventure. I am proud of you for finishing high school in the top ten of your class. However, my pride is not simply because you have earned a diploma — my pride is overflowing because you are such a cool and authentic young man. When I think about what I want most for you, it is exactly that: I want you to be your own authentic, confident, happy self.

Ayden, from the time you were just a toddler, it was evident that you marched to the beat of your own drum. It was not that you were selfish or unaware of others, you just did not care about being a part of the pack. You have always been you and have made decisions based on a strong sense of self. I know that as you walk across that stage, amongst more than 200 of your classmates, that I will be remembering that toddler with the boundless energy. I will be thinking about the first time you walked at nine months old and the first time you stepped foot in school. I will be reminded of the laughs, games, and lessons learned. And, I will reflect on the tears and rejections and, again, the lessons learned.

Now, here you are. You are one of many – many graduates with goals and dreams. With pressure and uncertainty. With memories and wisdom. With fear and trepidation. With the desire and the need to move forward – towards the diploma, towards the future, towards the unknown.

Now, here we are. Your parents. Your grandparents. Your sister. Your friends. We are here, with tears in our eyes, with so many memories and with our own hopes and dreams for you.

To my son: Listen to the music; walk towards the unknown with confidence and pride; celebrate every accomplishment and learn from your pain. Here you are, on your way towards the beautiful, scary, full-of-possibility future. And, here I remain by your side, always.

So, let that music play. If my tears decide to make an appearance, I will accept them and know that they are full of so much joy and hope. They are full of memories and experiences. They are full of my never-ending love for that boy who has become a man. For that toddler who chased Spiderman everywhere he went and for all the sweet memories we have of your childhood … for that young man who is now heading off to college. For that being who is and will hopefully always remain authentic and true.

Keep shooting webs and swinging high!  We will always be here cheering you on as you reach for the stars!