It's amazing to think that after 12 years of school, each of my three sons were taught how to walk on their last two days of school. Seriously, to graduate, they had to learn how to walk. You would think that lesson would come before the American Revolution or Geometry.
All kidding aside, yesterday was the my youngest's graduation from high school. I wasn't sad, but relieved! Just as my son was ready to graduate, I was just as ready for him to be done and moving on to his next chapter. For the largest class ever in our town, his class endured a lot of complaining by administration and teachers about the size. Just get over it and teach! But someone was doing something right ( parents, thank you very much!), 93% of the class are going to college with 14 entering the military as either ROTC, recruits and 2 going to West Point.
The ceremony was made personal by the speeches given by three students, their chosen teacher speaker and the superintendent. Maybe I am becoming used to the pomp and circumstance, but I think that by the third one, I have realized that graduations are not sad occasions, rather, they are ceremonies to celebrate a transition. So yes, I am glad that my sons were all taught to walk and that now it's time for my bub to learn to fly out on his own.