I know you’ve been the one to go to school
every day most of the days for the past 13 years, and you’re the one who passed all the tests and finished the classes, but this graduation isn’t just about you. It’s about a journey, a journey between the two of us.
You see, my life is sort of divided between the years before you and the years since. You, my sweet son, changed who I am.
I was a wife and a step-mom before you were born. And I like to think my mothering was pretty good. BUT YOU brought out my MAMA BEAR.
The first moment I saw you, the majesty of the heavens paled in comparison to this miracle I made. Oh yeah, Daddy made you too, but that’s a different story.
I stared at you for hours thinking “holy crap, you were inside of me!” The bigger you grew, the more that amazed me. All the sudden one day I looked up at this young man who was taller than both his parents and I said to myself “that was my tiny little Dyl Pickle” and I looked at my hand and remembered how you once sat so small in my cradled arm.
And I thought of how sick you were as a baby. I quit that job so fast to be home with you. What’s a job in comparison to your first born son? This week I’ve had many visions of you growing up- driving your first monster truck, riding your first dirt bike, tearing up the neighborhood with mud on your face. Well, that last part didn’t really change much.
I’ve always know you were gifted. Your talents extend so far beyond a classroom and truth be known, it’s not your GPA that impresses me. It’s the kind of man you turned out to be. They write country songs about guys like you! You’re that guy who will show up at 3 am to pull a truck out of a ditch. You’re that guy who will help your best friend swap out his motor with nothing to gain for yourself. And you’re that guy who comes back to the table to hold out your hand to help someone with less-than-steady feet stand up.
Your character is something that didn’t come from a textbook. And I pray that some piece of that came from me.
Friday night will be here before you know it. You’ll have to wear that blue gown and that silly hat you’re not that fond of. And I’m gonna cry. Just like I cried when I left you at Discovery Days. Just like I cried when you graduated Kindergarten. But these tears are a little different. They’re full of all the joys and struggles we’ve gone through- All the homeruns and missed curfews that made me scream.
You have your list of memories. First dates, best truck, favorite fishing hole. And I have them too. But mine were made on the sideline, where I’ve always stood and cheered for you. But don’t worry son- I’m not going anywhere.
My spot on the sideline is safe. I’ll be cheering you on forever. You just won’t have to get your report card signed ever again…
Congratulations, Today is your day! You’re off to great places! You’re off and AWAY!