Wake to your dreams, dear graduate
I realized that this was the last time I’d get you up for school. This particular morning was the final day of your senior year.
I realized that this was the last time I’d get you up for school. This particular morning was the final day of your senior year.
This time when she launches the regret-having-kids question, I don’t reply immediately as I typically do. Now that she’s 14, maybe I have a different answer for her.
It’s my fault that he left in a U-Haul in the middle of the night. He might try to tell you differently, but don’t believe him.
As I heard the shuffle of feet and mumbled chatter just above me, I shook my head in disbelief. Was I really squatted under the gymnasium bleachers?
Though I could no longer ask Mom about the things she always told me, I wondered what words of mine might still be taking up space in the brains of my three adult kids.
She asked me to please, please wait at the finish line when I was done and get a picture of her crossing. Only it didn’t happen as she had pictured.