When I look back I remember my firstborn son . . .
I recall you as:
a very special toddler full of energy and humor,
a young child who adored his grandad and helped make his last years truly fine,
an early rising boy who watched the test pattern but was on his way outside before the TV came on.
a lad who got his cleaning done on Saturday mornings before I could finish opening my eyes,
a youth able to catch a fly in midflight, make the best lasagna ever, show more horse sense than anyone, yet not ever too good to work hard when friends or neighbors needed him,
a college son who was there for me when the hurricane hit,
a young man whom I admired from a distance, one already experienced in both joy and grief.
Now facing a future I cannot protect, provide for, or polish; but who will do well for himself I know.
You will find you’ve inherited both good and bad from your parents, and it is now your task to cultivate your very own future–using past and present ingredients to become who you daily choose to be. Forgive me that I could not give you everything; I gave you the best I could at the time. You’ll always have my blessing . . . and my love.
My graduation wish for you would be:
SPARKLES OF JOY although I know to see the shine will take some background sorrows,
SUCCESS OF DREAMS FULFILLED though to reach goals will take hard climbing, boring plateaus, and some scraped knees,
PERFECT CHOICES even if to find them you have to wade through a lot of froggin’ mistakes and examples of Murphy’s Law.
Hope you’ll understand I must smile and cry at this your graduation.
I smile at how proud I am of you.
I cry that I can’t make it easy, and that I am losing some of the pleasure of your presence.
Let my tears be a saline streamlet from which you sail out into the sea of life.
In a sturdy craft yet giving to the waves which are surely there, while enjoying the splashes.
—— May your future be as fine as the joy I’ve had in being your mother. ——–
Copyright by Hildra Tague. Obtain permission for use online or in print.