High School Graduation

In just a few minutes it’s Son 1’s graduation. He’s got on slacks and a dress shirt. I’m going to loan him my blue “cow” tie… even tie it for him… a way we still “connect”, I guess.

He still says “yes, dad”, most of the time without rolling his eyes. The goodnight kisses he gives me are still on the lips. The hugs still refuse all self-consciousness. They come from the heart.

Despite the dumb jokes his dad tells, he’s not (overly) ashamed to invite friends over for dinner. (They roll THEIR eyes.)

His yearbook just came out. It’s actually in color this year. Not exactly like the tomes from the USA. It’s a simple book. Each class has an 8 by 11 inch page. Maybe even two. I turn to Jordan’s class page. It’s full of cartoons that represent the students, like those drawings they do at the fair. “See if you can find mine”, he says. I look. His classmates have drawn a young man with a halo and wings. Yes, he’s a saint. But he’s also got something else on his face: a smile.

Congratulations, son. Those wings will help you soar… The smile too.