We almost didn’t do this. Beloved at first agreed to do it, but as the date drew nearer it was apparent that he really didn’t want to go through with it. He moaned when he thought about it. It represented time lost, valuable time. Time spent finishing an important twenty-page paper and saying good-bye to friends he may never see again. It represented another day without rest. Time better used spent sleeping, since he’s only been living on three to four hours a night studying for finals.
It represented ritual, which he’s not really into. It meant listening to boring speeches by people that didn’t interest him. His name would not be called. He wouldn’t even get his diploma. He would be one of thousands of young graduates sitting together dress in their black caps and gowns. When the appropriate time came he would just stand and then sit down. To him it meant an ordeal. His arguments seem sound and I was ready to let him have his way - again.
Thank goodness that Queen Maker had different ideas. "He's really exhausted and just can't deal with anything right now. He'll be happy he went. This is an momentous occasion in his life and in our family's. This is no small fete. We need to celebrate it, even if it means going through the pomp and circumstance ritual."
Today we attended our son’s graduation from the University of Michigan. His aunts and uncles, his grandparents, and his parents sat in the stands loving every moment. The weather was perfect. The massive graduation was a spectacle. The grand scale of the event mirrored the enormity of this day and what it truly means to our family.
I was so glad we didn’t listen to his complaints. Later, Beloved said, “Yeah. I have to admit it. It was pretty cool. I’m glad I did it.”
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