Graduations always make me cry. At some point in the ceremony, whether it’s during Pomp and Circumstance or pictures of graduates on a video presentation or the sight of parents craning their necks to see their grad and maybe a whispered “There he is!”, I start to feel my eyes burn.

I’m not an emotional person. I think it’s that the picture of life before us at that moment is a beautiful one. You think of those kids when they were tiny and everyone smiling at those big, blinking eyes staring out at the world. You visualize their one time toddling boxy shapes holding fingers to help their balance. You see their grade school excitement, their middle school anxiety, their high school angst and over-confidence, and you think how much there is wrapped up in one person. Those persons walking down the aisle to their seat have their own hopes and plans however vague they may be, but they can’t begin to understand the hopes and dreams and love and prayers others have for them. It’s just the way it is.

Here we are in the midst of graduation season. We will congratulate and smile and hug and shake hands. We will send cards. We will hope and love and pray and watch them go. And we will blink back tears so that they only see us smile.

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