NEWS FROM THE HILLS
Of all the bittersweet events in a lifetime, I believe that high school graduation is number one. In a small community like ours, it is the common thing for children to start to the same grade school, then on to junior high, to finish high school with twelve years spent together. There are ties forged that many times last a lifetime.
These years of schooling have led to this special time when the student steps up on the platform to receive that coveted diploma. Amid the laughter and excitement of the moment, the knowledge creeps in that many of these friends you will never see again. High school graduation is a parting of the ways.
This time is hard for the parents also. As we see our children take their first step toward adulthood, we realize that their childhood is gone forever. Although we knew that his occasion was looming closer, we are not really prepared for the shock of nostalgia that hits. How in the world could this child have grown up so fast?
My mind wanders back to the past. My goodness, it seems such a short while ago that our first one started to school. My heart was sore for many reasons. He was small for his age then, wearing size five clothing at six years of age. We had moved to Spring Hill from our little holler here, and it was a new neighborhood and a strange school.
Michael took to school like a duck to water. He fell in love with his first grade teacher, Miss McClung, and went to school gladly. (He is 54 years old, and I still have his first grade papers. No, I’m not a bit sentimental!)
The years swept by swiftly, as they always do, and then it was Patty, Kevin, and Andy who started at two-year intervals. Matthew came along six years later, followed by Crystal. Each in turn walked onstage to accept their diplomas, and before you could bat an eye, the grandchildren began their step into adulthood. Jeremy, Mike’s and Peggy’s first born, was the first to receive his high school diploma, and then the grandchildren went in quick succession.
This year is was Matthew’s and Tammy’s first daughter, Rachel, who became number twelve to graduate. It is hard to imagine that she is old enough to have finished high school. It seems only yesterday that they brought her home from the hospital, a beautiful baby girl with a head full of black hair, and a rosebud mouth.
We saw her grow from her babyhood to the toddler stage, and by then she had a sister she called “Judy Cucumber.” Actually, her real name is Alexandria Gayle, but the “Judy” stuck. Two more sisters came along, Megan and Belinda, and after a suspenseful wait, she had a baby brother. He was named Jacob Matthew, but is Jake to the whole family.
Rachel has grown into a beautiful young lady, with long, dark hair and still the rosebud mouth. It scares me to see her step out into the world now, as it is a far different place than it was when I graduated. I look at her and the other young men and women who are leaving the nest, and wonder where our babies have gone so fast—and what will the future hold for them?
They teeter on the threshold of adulthood, and we have gone as far as we can with them. We have to loosen our grip, and let them try their wings. They must be free to make their own decisions and their own mistakes, and to learn from them. There has been 18 years of preparation, but I wonder if we have done our best in preparing them for the future?
It is too late now to begin giving advice. The foundation was begun years ago, when they were just babies, in the instilling of Godly principles and morals. The example was set before them, in the everyday life of parents and grandparents.
They will probably stumble and fall, but their early training will enable them to get back up and try again. This letting go is hard on parents and children alike. We shed tears, and we pray—and we are here when they need us.
Oh, Rachel, I wish I could shield you from life’s hurts and heartaches. I wish I could instill in you a living faith that would bolster you when disappointments come. I can only point you to God, the One who can carry your burdens and keep you from the evil of this world. He is the only One who can bring true joy and peace to your soul.
We have our children such a short time, and we need to make the most of the time we have with them. I have kept a little poem for years that tugs on the heartstrings.
My hands were busy through the day.
I didn’t have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
I didn’t have much time for you.
I’d wash your clothes and sew and cook
But when you brought your picture book
And asked me “please to share your fun”
I’d say, “A little later son.”
I’d tuck you in all safe at night
And hear your prayers, turn out the light.
Then tiptoe softly to the door
I wish I’d stayed a minute more.
For life is short, the years rush past,
The little boy grows up so fast,
No longer he is at your side
The precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away
There are no longer games to play.
No good night kiss—no prayers to hear,
That all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands, once busy, now are still
The days are long and hard to fill
How I wish I could go back and do
The little things you asked me to.
Author Unknown
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