A Perfect Day

I write this the morning of my son’s college graduation. The sun has been up for about an hour. A smattering of clouds lessens the sun’s intensity and may threaten the outdoor commencement ceremonies planned for later this morning.

Yet, I am looking out on a perfect day, one of the most perfect I have known.

Most of my close family has gathered in New England this morning, safely negotiating the insane holiday weekend traffic. The state of my mother’s health would not permit her to join us, but we will share this special moment with her later this week.

Readers of this blog will know that for the majority of their lives, I have raised my two children by myself, following their father’s sudden death years ago. In the early morning quiet, as our daughter sleeps peacefully in the bed next to mine, my head is filled with my late husband.

Like so many parents, we began to plan our children’s lives while they were still in utero. We thought about the type of neighborhood we should live in, where we would vacation, what lessons they would take and what we would expose them to in order for them to become fully rounded citizens of the world.

Most importantly, we talked about education. Education was of paramount importance to both of us. My husband actually may have been more intense, since there was no assumption in his family that he or any of his brothers ever would go to college. Service in the military, an overnight job paired with a full daytime class load, and a variety of student loans helped him reach his goal. I came from a family where a college education was the expectation, not an option. So I think I didn’t feel the imperative that my husband felt.

We would talk about what colleges our children might attend, like a lot of obsessive yuppie parents. We had evidence of our son’s intellect and character early in his life. At about age three, our son had taught himself to read, yet was reluctant to let us know because other kids had yet to reach his level. He has displayed that combination of intelligence and humility throughout his life.

My husband and I would project into the future, visualizing the college settings where our children’s names were called and they walked across the stage to receive their degrees.

Unfortunately, by the time my children graduated from high school, their father’s passing had long since become woven into the fabric of our lives.

As I wrote, this is a perfect morning. My son will be graduating with honors today. Every time I think about that, it makes me cry. I cry for our losses, I cry for our struggles, I cry for our victories, I cry for my son’s achievements today and those he and his sister have won in the past and those yet to come. I cry for how we got over.

I cry for the incalculable gift of family and friends, the Village that has helped me raise my children. I cry for my late father, whose extraordinary example as a man, husband, father, grandfather and community leader provided the foundation for where we are today. I cry in gratitude for all the love and support that surrounds all of us today, terrestrial and celestial.

The sky is looking a little more ominous. We may get that rain.

It will be perfect.