The Grad

My sister, Kati, graduated from high school today.  She began her homeschool journey the fall after I graduated which means I've been out of school as many years as she's been in.  It makes me feel old and yet I still feel like a kid myself.  It's surreal.

I remember the day she was born.  I was thirteen years old and hoping for a little sister.  My brother, Ryan was born when I was two, and for eleven years, it had been just the two of us.  Now there was going to be a third.  Ryan and I waited all day at my grandparents'  house, anticipating news that the baby was finally here.  When we walked into the delivery room, no one had told us whether the baby was a boy or girl.  Someone asked me to guess and I guessed boy! 

Eight years later, the baby girl  had grown into a little girl and walked the aisle as the flower girl in my wedding.  She even caught the bouquet, a special memory for both of us.  She followed me though much of the pomp of my big day.  I have pictures of her leaning  on the table, gazing as Brian and I cut our wedding cake.

But today was her day, and she did it on her own.  I didn't need to trail behind and my gaze was from afar, as an observer on a church bench.  As she walked up the aisle today, it was to accept her diploma and when she walked back down, it was to officially enter the world as a graduate.  I wasn't prepared to be emotional.  I was so excited for her.  As we woke up early and prepared to leave for the ceremony, I tucked a tissue in my bag as a "just in case," but I truly didn't expect to do more than dab a tear from the corner of my eye.  Wrong. I was a crying mess, and my flimsy tissue had its work cut out for it.  (It failed miserably.)  I noticed she had a tissue tucked in her hand, too. 

I think my emotions go beyond the emotions of the day.  The older I get, the more aware I am of time slipping through my fingers.  Her school days were begun and gone in a flash.  As a mother of my own children, I feel that ache.  Brian and I were talking about it tonight after the hubbub of putting the kids to bed. Gavin will be nine this year.  He's halfway to eighteen.  He hasn't needed us to dress him for years.  He can brush his own teeth, fix his own drinks, take a shower, ride a bike, read books.  He doesn't want me to hold him in my lap anymore or to help him cross the street.  How did it happen that we blinked and we're halfway done our job of raising him?  How can it be that in nine more short years, it will be his turn to walk that aisle and our turn to release him to the adult world?  I think of when we are on a road trip and how the second half of the journey always goes by more quickly than the first half.  It is sobering.

Leftover graduation cake sits on the counter, a reminder of the day-- a reminder to seize this day and every day and make them count... and a reminder that this day and every day are from Him. 

We will not let the tears deter us from the celebration, though. Today the world gained a new adult, a woman who loves the Lord and shines His love about her always.  We pray that the Lord will guide her steps and guide ours, too, as we all continue in the work He has called us to do.

We love you, Kati!