Chapter 8
A Mile Away
God willing, my son Zachary will be graduating High School in about four months. This 6 foot 1 inch mountain of a young man will take his purple and yellow cap and gown and walk across the school's 50 yard line to receive his Diploma. I have thought about this moment many times especially since the beginning of the year. SAT registrations, College applications, ordering of Year Books and new suits for the prom and homecoming fill our busy schedule now. It seems each time I see him , Zach is growing taller. The boy in his face is leaving him and the presence of a young man looms bigger and more defined each passing day. I guess if one was to ask me how I feel about all this change, the only thing I can mana
ge to say is "It is a happy kind of sad." Tears have filled my face recently. There are times when I pass by his school on my way home and I stop and think that there is where my oldest son will graduate from. This is the building that when he looks back on his life where he will have the fondest memories of his young life. The school is only about a half mile from where I live. It may sound funny, maybe a little silly to you, but being near to where he is makes me feel a little better. Makes me feel in a small way I am still a part of his life. I think it is not until you are older that you realize how hard it is for a parent to let go and let their children do their own thing. I know that things change and that five year old boy who use to sit on the front porch waving goodbye to me on Sunday nights needs to spend time with his friends, work his part-time job, throw his shot-putt and chase his dreams. I know that. It is just true and I can understand that. I was 18 years old once too. But you know if I was to let you know what lies in my heart. It hurts a little too. There are days I wish he was five again and I could kiss him up like I used too. There are moments I wish I could tuck him in at night and he would say,” tell me a story daddy”. And I felt needed and that the whole world was right there at our feet, and all we really needed was to spend time with one another. But those days are gone now and those moments are embedded in my aging and aching heart and I hope in his young one. The next four months of my life I am hoping to see him throw the shot-put for spring track. The other day he told me he got his Varsity Letter. I was so proud that after I dropped him off I cried. I didn't want him to see me do this so I waited until after he was gone inside the house. I think today that Varsity letter means more to me than to him. Because it symbolizes accomplishment, it represents trying, and most of all 30 years from now when he looks back on his life hopefully he will remember all those who took the time to help him get there. Like his mother who in my humble opinion taught him the meaning of mercy and grace and what true love and care is. Like his sister whose hand he would not let go of when they were little. His Grandparents both living and non living. His Uncles and Aunts who miss and love him in
I Love You Son,
Dad