COMMENCEMENT
all the women of our family
take up every seat in the center
of the second row in the auditorium
my eldest daughter digs deep
into the dark recesses of her handbag –
you know the one,
that in its cavernous depths once held
the plastic bag of crunchy oat cereal,
an extra diaper, three water bottles,
plastic keys on a teething ring,
dry socks and an extra
snuggly blankey, just in case –
and pulls out her stash of
tissues for this occasion
she passes them down the row
to me, nestled in beside her,
to her sister, my youngest daughter,
on my other side,
to my only granddaughter’s
best friend’s mother and to her mother,
the furthest on my left;
then, all together now we dab at our
overflowing eyes as the band begins
“Pomp and Circumstance” and
the Class of 2015 ceremoniously
processes in, wearing royal blue gowns
and mortarboards with golden tassels
like matched bookends, all the men of our family –
my daughter’s husband, and her father, and her son
on the right end;
my only granddaughter’s best friend’s father and
her grandpa and her brother on the left end -
bracket all the women, anchoring us into
these present moments,
while they telescope and zoom lens above the heads
of the family in the first row, then stepping out into
the aisles and back in again to their seats, adjusting,
capturing all these fleeting seconds filled with
pride and anticipation;
the culmination of past days and years, embodied
in our sons and daughters, who walk across this stage
as their names are called, acknowledged and congratulated,
then sent off into futures only dreamed about,
stories that are opening to possibility
on this, the day we honor her,
my only grandson, younger brother to our beloved graduate,
awakens a cherished memory from years gone by
as leaning into his mother’s arm,
he whispers, awestruck,
“Isn’t she beautiful!”
….. so the story goes
-pab © may 2015-
all the women of our family
take up every seat in the center
of the second row in the auditorium
my eldest daughter digs deep
into the dark recesses of her handbag –
you know the one,
that in its cavernous depths once held
the plastic bag of crunchy oat cereal,
an extra diaper, three water bottles,
plastic keys on a teething ring,
dry socks and an extra
snuggly blankey, just in case –
and pulls out her stash of
tissues for this occasion
she passes them down the row
to me, nestled in beside her,
to her sister, my youngest daughter,
on my other side,
to my only granddaughter’s
best friend’s mother and to her mother,
the furthest on my left;
then, all together now we dab at our
overflowing eyes as the band begins
“Pomp and Circumstance” and
the Class of 2015 ceremoniously
processes in, wearing royal blue gowns
and mortarboards with golden tassels
like matched bookends, all the men of our family –
my daughter’s husband, and her father, and her son
on the right end;
my only granddaughter’s best friend’s father and
her grandpa and her brother on the left end -
bracket all the women, anchoring us into
these present moments,
while they telescope and zoom lens above the heads
of the family in the first row, then stepping out into
the aisles and back in again to their seats, adjusting,
capturing all these fleeting seconds filled with
pride and anticipation;
the culmination of past days and years, embodied
in our sons and daughters, who walk across this stage
as their names are called, acknowledged and congratulated,
then sent off into futures only dreamed about,
stories that are opening to possibility
on this, the day we honor her,
my only grandson, younger brother to our beloved graduate,
awakens a cherished memory from years gone by
as leaning into his mother’s arm,
he whispers, awestruck,
“Isn’t she beautiful!”
….. so the story goes
-pab © may 2015-
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