Ready To Fly

“Excuse me, I think I am supposed to be dancing with my daughter”, the tall panic-stricken man explained to my friend after he almost knocked her over in his frantic search for his daughter.   He looked around and realized that the high school graduates were still dancing with their escorts and that the graduates/parents dance had not yet started.  He relaxed a little, content in the knowledge that he had not, in fact, ruined his daughter’s graduation night by not being at the right place at the right time.

 Those of you who have attended a small town grad will understand the panic the father was in.  Last Friday, I was in a nearby small town, attending my husband’s nephew’s graduation.  With only twenty or so graduates, smaller high school graduations are heavy on tradition and sentimentality, from the slide show in which each student is showcased from early childhood through grade twelve to each graduate walking off the stage to present their mother with a rose, the tears flow easily and family pride is evident. 

            A couple songs later, it was time for the graduates/parents dance and the father who had bulldozed his way over my friend, stepped onto the dance floor to claim his daughter.  As I watched them dancing, I couldn’t help but smile.  It was evident in the easy way they danced and laughed together that they were very close.  It was also evident that they had danced together many times over the years.  She was tall and dark haired like her father and they danced beautifully. 

            As I watched them, these two people I have never met but for some reason fascinated me, I was quite sure that the Dad was a little shocked at the beautiful young lady in his arms.  He no doubt was wondering where the years went.  One day she was starting kindergarten, the next she was dancing with him in her dying days of high school.  I imagined he was remembering the first time he danced with her, likely with her feet on his as he guided her through their living room.  He looked proud and sad all at the same time; proud of the young women she had become and sad at losing the child she had been.

            Throughout the province during the months of May and June, this scene will be replayed in every small town as communities gather to acknowledge the accomplishments of their graduates and celebrate their success.  There is something to be said for small graduating classes.  Most of the students have been together since kindergarten in the same school that their parents attended.  Many are related to each other.  There is a closeness in these classes which is impossible in larger city schools.  Because of the small number of students, the ceremony itself focuses on each student individually and each has his or her time to shine.  Whether you know all the students or only one, by the end of the evening you feel connected to all of them and have likely shed a tear or two with them. 

            For families of high school graduates this is a bittersweet time.  Enjoy the celebrations, reminisce, laugh and cry, then set your graduate free to take on the world.  You have been preparing them for this for the past eighteen years - job well done.

          Celebrating with our graduates  . . .  it’s a good thing!