June 2, 2015 (Tuesday)
I enjoyed Mark Miller’s blog telling of the graduation of his son. He and Carrie and the rest of the family listened intently for the name of their graduate, and, he wrote, that when it was called, they “gave a big family, highly-embarrassing, duck-your-head-so-you’re-not-seen cheer.”
We’ve been there. We had five children, 9 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild. All together, including ceremonies ranging from kindergarten to graduate degrees, we have had 36 ceremonies for children, grandchildren and spouses. Wait, that doesn’t seem right. Let me check: kindergarten, 1; high school, 16; junior college 3; college bachelor, 12; college master, 3; military commission, 1. Yep, 36. When we first started attending graduations, the audience sat quietly and reserved its applause until all the graduates had been named. But that custom didn’t last, Today’s ceremonies can be noisy at times. And long; some classes numbered at least 1,000. To be fair, we did not attend every ceremony. We missed Andy’s graduations in Virginia, and Angela’s in Nebraska, as well as Stephen’s in Austin. But we were there in Rockport, Pearland, The Woodlands, Corpus Christi, Kingsville, Waco and San Marcos. We’re thankful for all the graduates and proud of each one. There are more on the way. Their names will be called and they, too, will be launched into new experiences in life.
One has to live a long time to have such experiences. I qualify. This past weekend I had a minor accident that was my fault. I am confident that I remain a capable driver, but I must be extra careful now. A few years ago, I was stopped by a highway patrolman and given a warning ticket for breaking a new law, and when the officer saw the birth date on my driver’s license, he smiled and said his father was born the same year as I. Then he seemed to scowl as he handed it back to me, saying, “We don’t let him drive anymore.” My time may be coming, but I don’t think I’m there yet. At least I hope not.