Graduation Grief
Some time last summer, with my son entering his senior year of high school, I started tracking all of the ‘last time’ events in my head and sometimes aloud. This is the ‘last’ first-day photo of high school, this is the ‘last’ time for back-to-school night, this is the ‘last’ winter break of high school and so forth.
For the past 3 1/2 years on school mornings (1/2 year he was remote due to COVID), I would start by softly waking up my son and within 15 minutes it’s escalated to loud and sometimes, yelling voice (and yes, we understand he should be waking himself up but that’s another subject). Then he begrudgingly gets in the shower while I prepare his to-go coffee. Not the best way to start a morning, but by the time we are in the car we’ve both acted like that daily scene never happened. As I was putting away his to-go coffee cup after this ‘last’ morning, I nearly lost it. That damn coffee cup represented another ‘last time’ that even with the painful memories with getting him out the door, I knew I would miss this sometimes brutal routine one day soon.
Many of my friends are already empty nesters or have sent off their first kid to college but not until last year when Tubby’s first went to college, did I start to comprehend the pain my husband, myself and our dog would be in for. To raise someone with the idea that day by day you are preparing them to leave you at some point is a wild concept to me. To be so close both physically and emotionally with someone daily only to have them leave is one of the most heartbreaking things to me. My rational self understands that this next journey will be so fulfilling for our son and for us to experience it with him second-hand, but for now I’m in Graduation Grief skipping the first couple of stages and heading straight to depression.
As we celebrated his commencement this past weekend, the actual day was full of anticipation, excitement and pride. The next day I did one of my typical runs around Golden Gate Park, but this time it felt like a review of his childhood with every memory feeling like a dull ache to the heart. I ran by his youth soccer fields where my husband coached him for 9 years, the facility where they held his pre-school Halloween party, different meadows we celebrated his birthdays, and walks around the park when we first got his beloved dog.
I remember back when my son was little, we would be out and about as a family of 3 and middle-aged couples would just smile in fondness but there was always something a little sad that I couldn’t pinpoint. This past year I realize I’ve started doing the same stare. Some of our neighbors have young families and the laughter, crying, and playing can be heard on a daily basis. It’s so joyful but also a reminder of my son’s childhood that seem to whip by us. At the time, I remember being so sleep deprived and bombarded by weekend parties and team practice that I didn’t fully enjoy the moment. There were days I remember saying I couldn’t wait to get past this stage. Well, I’m finally past that stage and now wishing I could just have a few of those moments back. Everyone says it goes by so quickly and here we are 18 years later saying the same thing.
Congrats to the class of 2024 whatever your next adventure may be. I’m looking forward to the Acceptance stage.
-BT
