Graduation
It’s surreal, feeling the breeze lift up my hair and ruffle of the skirt of the dress I’m wearing. Surprisingly, this second weekend in May is sunny and balmy…perfect for an outdoor college graduation ceremony. I fix my gaze on the row of the ten rows of mortarboards and swinging tassels. In a few minutes, my daughter will stride across the stage and switch that tassel to the other side. And then, she enters into the very new, very exciting phase of her life. And I nearly want to burst with joy at her success.
No. Hey. I said no.
Yeah, baby. But I know you don’t really mean it. You’ve been grinding up on me on the dance floor all night. You gave me all the go signals. We’re celebrating your graduating.
We were just dancing. I said, no!
Bitch.
Oh god.
You don’t lead a man on like that, you slut. I’ll show you.
It’s surreal, watching my oldest baby graduate from college right now. How much she’s had to fight to get here. In terms of life experiences, she’s got the best resume out of the whole graduating class. And she’ll conquer it all. I know it.
I glance over at my husband, who’s also beaming with pride at his stepdaughter. And at my two other middle-school age children, who are trying to wave and catch their sister’s attention. It’s a day to be grateful.