Monday, May 30, 2005
A perfect ten
What a day she had. Watching her walk across the stage, I had such awesome emotion in me. I was filled me with pride, of course. But excitement and and the sense of time passing as well. She sat in a sea of red caps and gowns, young people embarking on the futures, the group never under the same roof together again. We sat in a crowd of proud families, each hooting and clapping when their child’s name was called. The coliseum filled with smiles and the good feelings and celebration of accomplishment. I felt my father's presence in the coliseum, just over my right shoulder. I felt his pride, his smile, his raised eyebrows.
After the ceremony we had a luncheon at Ninfa's in her honor. When she called and asked where we were, I told her we were in the back dining room. She laughed and said she was in the main dining room. We hung up and I waited. Then I got a funny feeling and called her back, and asked which Ninfa’s she went to. She said Westheimer. I said, Echo Lane. Once that was sorted and she came to us, the celebrating began.
Graduates make out well, and she was showered with gifts, cards, and envelopes that revealed monetary contents that brought wide eyes and big smiles to her face. She received affection and kudos from people who have known her throughout her life and watched her get to this day. After the party, I went home. She took off into the day with her friends. The next day on the phone I asked her to rate her graduation day, one to ten. Without hesitation, she said it was a ten. As it should be.