Today my most recent fifth grade class graduated elementary school. It was an emotionally charged morning; a blend of triumph, anticipation, and relief. When I look at all that has been accomplished since September I could say that it was the longest school year ever. Then, again, when I think of how long that journey seemed ten months ago, I can say it really wasn't. Trust me nobody appreciates a good summer respite more than I do...but at the same time I'm just...not...ready.
I have a love-hate relationship with graduations. I love the excitement, the formality, the hope in the eyes of the young...the pride in the eyes of their parents, but I so hate the finality. I'm not one for emotion..but I'm huge on nostalgia...and the nostalgia gets me. Just ask the father in front of me last year when my twins graduated pre-K. I finally stopped trying to hide my rare wave of emotion and blubbered like a pathetic sap. "Why are you crying?", he turned around and inquired. "Think of all the money we will be saving! This is the best day of my life!"
One year, and a lot less financial burden later, I see his point and laugh at just how the site of pint sized graduates in teeny caps and gowns drove me to become a sobbing mess...until Kindergarten moving up day. Once again there I was trying to make sure that nobody could see me welling up during "The Garden Song." This time I was able to keep more of a handle on myself...perhaps it was the absence of the teeny caps and gowns...or it could be that I was busy trying to silently will twin A to sing and stand still from my seat way back in the rear of the audience. Fortunately I have another 5 years before I have to hide my graduation tears again...but at 41 I realize 5 years is really not much time.
Tonight the high schoolers in my home district are having their graduation. I know this because the district has exercised every form of modern communication to let both my husband and I know this. "Our kids just finished your K program...stop freaking me out," I feel like emailing, texting, and calling back. And so on a much needed run this evening to get my emotions out, I passed all the balloon festooned mailboxes of homes where high school seniors are getting ready to spread their wings and make that first jump from their pristine suburban nests. Nests feathered just "yesterday" when their parents, like myself, moved into a neighborhood where they could raise them. Nests where just "yesterday" they were singing "The Garden Song" in preparation for Kindergarten moving up day. They, like me, were not ready for it all to move so fast.
Maybe this is why I love running so much. Life moves so fast...but ask any runner and they will tell you...nothing slows down time like a run. Ticking clocks are no match for ticking mileage. As my children move to first grade, and my students move to middle school, and the class of 2017 moves beyond the shelter of the local school system the only thing I can do is let go and try to treasure and savor the miles in my life the way I savor the miles out on the road.
Many years separate the class of 2017 from the class of 2029...but in the blink of an eye it will be my mailbox that boasts those shiny badges of the ending of their first chapter...and my most treasured one. It's going to come quicker than I want and I won't be ready...and I'll once again be blubbering in some poor dad's ear...and with the knowledge of the cost of college...he will probably be crying too.
*Miles ran this week 12. Days until marathon 134 .
No comments:
Post a Comment