Graduation Reflection
Graduation Time
I had the privilege, the true privilege, of attending 2 graduation ceremonies of Andrew's. The first was so cute...it was his graduation from Bright Horizons kindergarten. While ALL of the other kids were casually dressed as expected, my son liked to dress up and insisted upon wearing a blue blazer, white shirt, tie, and dress pants. He looked so sharp. You just had to smile when you saw him. And, the class sang "I Believe I Can Fly". I tear up to this day just thinking about it.
The next, and last, graduation that Andrew would have was from St. Mary Magdalen, his grade school. I stare at the picture below - over and over again- and think about how 'perfect' our world was when this picture was taken. Did I think it was 'perfect' at the time? I don't know. Doesn't Andrew look happy? Don't I look like the proud Dad? Do you know how some kids look stiff when they're photographed with their parents? That awkwardness never existed with us. Andrew was fine having his picture taken with me. He was fine with me putting my arm around him. Andrew wasn't just my son. He was truly one of my best friends. And, I was one of his best friends. And, I feel that way about Ali, too. I am so blessed to have/had that kind of relationship with my kids.
But, who would have ever thought that my child would die just 13 months later?!
The 'normal' course of life would have seen Andrew graduate from college this past month. Would he have gone to Delaware, Notre Dame, Villanova? I don't know...and I would have supported him wherever he chose to go.
This time of year, and this year in particular, is really, really hard. Yes, I know Andrew is in Heaven and yes, I do believe that he is watching over us. But, there are no words for me to describe the pain of missing Andrew. People used to ask 'what do you miss most?' My answer sometimes surprises people because it's not what people would think. It's not 'big' events, games, or trips. I just miss his company, his friendship, hanging out with him. Watching sports with him, playing pool with him, clowning around with him, hearing his laugh...
Why am I sharing this? I'm not really sure. I'm not looking for sympathy. I just want people to realize how lucky they are, how blessed, whatever term feels right for you. I'm not saying that we're the only ones with problems. We all have our challenges and, for the most part, we go through life silently dealing with them. Tonight, while at a grade school graduation reception, I overheard some Moms talking on and on about the challenges - and tremendous stress - of picking the right ice cream flavors and condiments for a school function. Really?! Excuse me for being judgmental, but it was a little hard to be sympathetic to them as I sat there gathering my thoughts for the talk that I was about to give about my deceased child.
None of us have perfect lives...perfect kids, perfect spouses, etc. But if I told you that you have 72 hours left to live, how would you live them. I don't mean where would travel, etc. I mean HOW would you live them? How would you live your life for those 3 days? How would you speak to your kids? What would be worthy of fighting over? Same for your spouse. Why do I ask 'how would you live if you only have 72 hours left'? Because you might.
I love you Andrew...Ali...Chris!
Trying to B+
Ali & Andrew's Dad
