“How do you feel?” I ask.
“I don’t feel any different,” he replies.
Humm, I think to myself. It will sink in soon enough.
I remember mine like it was yesterday. I was the Valedictorian for the class. And in usual I need to be different style, I had rented an old-fashioned dress. Victorian style.
Unfortunately, upon finding my seat at the front of the auditorium I was soon to discover the dress fit more comfortably standing up. Unbearably so.
Last night while I watched the ceremony with my son seated, I contemplated the future for the graduates of 2010.
Some claimed to go on to be a doctor, others an engineer, a few policeman, some nurses and a select in science.
What does the future for these graduates really need?
MLA, Ida Chong provided one quest.
“Will one of you find a cure for cancer?”
The Valedictorians provided a performance on holding onto the memories. There was more then a handful of graduates who said their happiest moment of school was walking across that stage to receive their recognition.
Good riddance another wards.
I didn’t hear anyone say journalist. Maybe two claimed communications. One said web design.
I thought that interesting given the technological age we’re in.
My media card rang full when it came time for my son to strut his stuff. I validated this as a sign from the Universe. Maybe he doesn’t need to remember his graduation. What in his life will be more important? Perhaps marriage, the birth of his first child or the success of his chosen career.
I know I’ll cherish the look on his face when he tossed his hat.
Now that was a celebration.