Reminiscing on Graduation

Some regular readers emailed me last week, inquiring as to my whereabouts. I assured them that all is fine with the Locklin family, and I merely took a week off from column writing in order to recuperate.

You see, our son graduated from last weekend. It is a milestone for parents that equates to a triathlon.

My husband, Lewis, was characteristically confused about the multiple tasks and activities that surrounded . According to my ever-opinionated spouse, high school should end just as it did for him in 1970. Finish your last class then pile as many pals as you can into a car and head to Panama City Beach.

Not so for our Etowah grads. The final month of school brought all manner of tasks ranging from addressing graduation announcements to planning a party to ironing the graduation gown to paying outstanding school fees that a certain senior failed to mention earlier in the year.

I spent the equivalent of a week at Cherokee Reprographics obsessing over the precise wording and style of announcements and party invitations. And I could not resist ordering a box of cocktail-sized napkins embossed with Taylor’s name and graduation date. Once that was settled, there was no reason not to additionally order 100 similarly embossed ribbons that double as dandy bookmarks and would be set out as party favors.

Noticeably absent from all this planning and errand-running were Lewis and the graduate. They mostly rolled their eyes nightly as I reconciled my To Do list.

Purchase tacky party decorations from Party City and Dollar Tree? Check.

Assemble color coordinated high school mementos and headed-to-college items for a table display at the graduation party? Finished.

Scan 125 photographs of Taylor and friends for a slide show during the graduation party? Done.

Meet with banquet manager to plan menu and other details for the graduation party? Check and rechecked after three meetings.

The big weekend was finally upon us. My out-of-town in laws arrived Friday evening about five minutes after I frantically cleared cobwebs and dust bunnies from the guest room. Lasagna in the oven and salad in the fridge, Lewis and I quickly abandoned our guests to attend the first of multiple graduation parties being thrown by our friends for their own graduates.

Commencement the next morning at the First Baptist Church of Woodstock was well-orchestrated and I teared up more than once as our son’s friends, many whom we have known since they were kindergarteners, marched across the dais. After the ceremony, Taylor slowed down for about one minute to let me snap a couple of photos in the parking lot. Then he was off to join his friends at multiple pool parties scheduled for the rest of the day.

Our own party was held Saturday night at the Eagle Watch Club House. We hosted a joint event with two other sets of parents and their two sons. The setting was lovely, and the evening was spent in friendship and laughter.

Understand that these parties are more for the parents than the grads. We basically spent the weekend going to each other’s events and exchanging graduation presents. In many ways, we were celebrating our own crossing of the graduation finish line as parents. A 13-year marathon that, in hindsight, was actually just a sprint.

The graduates put up with all this hoopla because they like the food and the gifts. Plus, they gather at these two to three hour adult fests and leave en masse for their own parties held in secret locations I’m sure I don’t want to know about.

Taylor invited 98 of his closest friends. They scarfed up the Beef Wellington and Chicken Satay and charmed all the parents with their good manners. They ignored the embossed napkins and ribbon bookmarks. My son does have a wonderful circle of friends, and I will miss each and every one of them when they leave for college in August.

Lewis’ memory of his 1970 graduation is no doubt distorted. Most likely, his mother was busy with many of the same tasks that consumed my life this past month. He has simply forgotten the image of his mother ironing his own graduation gown, ordering his Thank You cards and ensuring that gifts were delivered to each of his closest friends in celebration of their achievement.

And that’s how it should be. Let them be carefree and doted upon at this particular milestone. Let them enjoy one last happy-go-lucky summer before taking on the responsibilities of university life and adulthood. They earned it.