Unorganized Territory

 

A few years ago I wrote a column for the parents of the Cook County High School graduates. I didn’t intend to write a column for parents; I started writing to the seniors themselves. But I realized that the students finishing their last week of high school and preparing for commencement exercises don’t really want to hear from some newspaper woman.

But I thought their parents may be ready to hear from a Mom who has made it through the graduation of two children. I was right—the column resonated with parents. I received more comments on it than just about any other Unorganized Territory.

So, a column dedicated to those frantic parents has become a tradition. Not that I don’t wish the members of the Class of 2009 well. I just have a feeling they are too busy to listen. They are making plans for the summer and for the future. What a wonderful time for them!

I remember the giddy feeling of finally being finished with school, ready to take on the world. I recall that those last days were bittersweet— happiness mixed with sadness because my friends and I knew we were heading off in a dozen different directions. Things would never be the same. But the sadness of goodbye could not overshadow the excitement over what was to come.

It’s a different story for parents. It’s a happy time, of course. Parents are filled with relief that all those battles over homework and curfews are over. Theyare proud that their child has fulfilled the requirements of graduation and will make a dramatic entry in his or her cap and gown.

But there is also that looming goodbye—the one that every parent dreads from the time their child takes his or her first steps, gets on the bus on the first day of kindergarten, or gets behind the steering wheel for the first time. Graduation is a final rite of passage, one that comes all too soon.

It’s hard to believe that the tiny baby that changed your world could turn into an adult in such a short passage of time. It’s hard to believe how fast all those years of teacher conferences, spring concerts, sporting events, and last-minute grade concerns, flew by.

Thelast few months are the craziest, with the final chaos of invitations and open houses. Parents scramble to make sure they have enough brats, buns, and balloons for the party. It’s a good thing there is a lot to do—it makes it a bit easier for mom and dad. At least until the graduate packs up his or her belongings and leaves them to the empty nest.

For those parents, I’m ending with a longer-thanusual quote. I received it from my mom when my first "baby" graduated. I’ve shared this Erma Bombeck quote at graduation for a couple of years now. It still makes me tear up when I read it, but I still find comfort in it. I hope the parents of the Class of 2009 do too.

Children are like kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you’re both breathless – they crash – you add a longer tail – they hit the rooftop – you pluck them out of the spout – you patch and comfort, adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they’ll fly! …Finally they are airborne, but they need more string – you keep letting it out and with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with the joy, because the kite becomes more distant and somehow you know that it won’t be long until that beautiful creature will snap the life line that bound you together and soar as it was meant to soar – free and alone.

Erma Bombeck