Graduation Day

Just for today, I will be grateful.

I have a three year old son who is full of beans. He’s on top of me the moment I walk in the door and we’re inseparable until I finally get him down for the night. Recently, we found a photograph in a drawer. The boy in the photograph looks like my three year old, but he is actually my 18 year old, who is graduating from secondary school today.

It’s an emotional juxtaposition. The boy in that photograph is now a reasonably capable, independent young man. He’s already a multitalented professional teacher/musician, talents he will develop further in college. He’s popular with his peers, endlessly amusing on Facebook, and a little mad like his dad (don’t tell him I said that).

But I can still see the three year old. Surely it hasn’t been fifteen years! So many memories from that age alone. Memories he was too young to remember, that I will never forget. Putting him on his first tricycle, teaching him how to draw pictures on the computer, the electronic Barney doll that would startle us by waking up in the night and talking to itself, walking through the neighbourhood, hand in hand, carrying him on my shoulders. “Night night, sleep tight”.  My little buddy.

Tonight I will sit among hundreds of parents and watch hundreds of students close one chapter of their lives and open another. (well, maybe when summer’s over. They’ve got time.) Then I will see my son for a few moments, tell him how proud I am and give him a hug. Then he will be off to the pub with his mates (Is he really that old?) then to dinner with their girlfriends, wearing the suits that they recently purchased after the girls badgered them into making an effort for a change.

Then I will go home and carry my three year old up the stairs and put him to bed. He’ll probably jump on it first, and I’ll let him, making sure not to let him fall. Then we’ll look out the window for a while talking about what we can see, then “night night, sleep tight”. Then I will turn out the light and try not to think about how he will start playschool next term, and how the years will start to whirl by, because I might get overemotional.

Oops, too late.

See a list of Reiki precepts.

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