Last night Jason graduated with honors. I remember how he cried the first six weeks of kindergarten. Last night I was the one shedding a tear. I am so proud of him. He has worked so hard.
I carried my baby granddaughter for four blocks to St. Louis University arena for the nearly three! hour ceremony. Nicole weighs 27 pounds; she's an armload of love and wiggles. I apparently overused my arm muscles, because when we stood for the national anthem my right arm spasmed so badly I couldn't keep my hand over my heart. After a while it quit.
When the processional began and the students in red caps and gowns filed in, Nicole and her daddy, thirty feet below, spotted one another. She reached her arms out for him to hold her and screeched, "Dada!" His classmates looked up and laughed. We took a picture.
The end of a school year; a new beginning... We passed the dorms where parents waited curbside and helped their students cram personal possessions into trucks and back seats of cars. I spoke to one mom whose son was lugging his bedding and foam mattress. "Won't it be good to have him home for a while?" I asked. She laughed and said, "Yeah, right! He's sleeping over tonight and tomorrow he'll be at the airport. He's touring Europe this summer."
Oh, to have that sense of adventure and an ounce of youth back!
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