It’s Graduation Season

And Everyone is Crying in the Parking Lot

As the crowd of families rushed to find seats at the end-of-year choir concert at my daughter’s school, I found my way towards the front of the theater and plopped down next to a woman approaching from the opposite aisle. We each saved the seat next to us, and then sat in silence as the room filled up around us.  

I glanced over as she positioned a massive bouquet on her lap and felt thankful that she was one of the few who brought flowers instead of me being one of the few who did not.  

“Those are so beautiful,” I said, because it’s virtually impossible for me to sit next to someone and not speak to them. 

“They’re for my daughter,” she smiled. “She’s a senior and this is her last concert.”

The conversation flowed from there. Her daughter was the youngest of two children, she had been at the school since K4, the choir program was a huge part of her life, and she was accepted to the college of her dreams to study music. 

My heart swelled. The woman sitting next to me was reaching the final pages of a huge chapter of her life. 

“I guess I’ll know which one she is when I look over and see you crying,” I joked. “I’m going to be a total mess when it’s my turn. My kids are in 10th and 8th.” 

It’s definitely tough,” she said, choking back a tear. 

I spent the next hour and a half holding back my own emotional meltdown.

🥹The innocent voices of the elementary choir were an unfair trigger for all of the fragile parents wondering where the time had gone.

😢Then the middle school singers perfectly represented the bridge where they somehow transform from babies to young adults.

😭By the time the different high school choir groups took to the stage, I was barely holding it together. 

I didn’t even dare to check on the woman next to me. 

And just when I thought I was in the clear, the choir director called the seniors to the front of the stage and shared a beautiful tribute of their time together and their promising futures. 

That’s not your kid. That’s not your kid. I kept reminding myself. 

The hugs they shared. The tears that flowed. The beaming smiles on their faces. 

Not. Your. Kid. 

The concert wrapped with a final upbeat song: the Bill Wither’s classic, “Lovely Day.” 

Lord, help me. 

As the show ended to a standing ovation, I looked over and saw the woman beaming with pride (and glowing from post-cry residue). 

We shared a big hug and I intended to tell her that her daughter sang beautifully and to wish her luck with graduation and the transition to follow. Yet, all that came out of my mouth was, “Good luck,” before the words got caught in my throat and I saved myself from having a public meltdown with a stranger. 

Her words were stuck too. She gave me a quick squeeze on my arm and a nod that held feelings only a mother could understand. 

And then we departed into the chaos. 

While searching for my daughter in the crowd, I couldn’t stop thinking about the weight of high school graduation. And wondering why in the name of everything holy does this most stressful time of year have to coincide with Mother’s Day? 

For real. 

Graduation is one of those milestones that, at times, feels like it’s so far away. But when it’s your turn, it comes at you like a bullet train without brakes. 

The graduates are thinking: FINALLY! I never have to go back to another day of high school. 

The parents are thinking: I can’t believe this is really happening. 

Meanwhile, someone’s grandma has been unknowingly taking a video of the inside of her purse. 

And underneath all the balloons, sheet cake, and emotional slideshows, something big is happening: one very colorful chapter of life is coming to an end. And not with one of those insignificant pages that you flip past without thinking. This page is heavy. It’s the kind where you feel the weight of turning it. 

For the students, life is about to get wider. 

For the parents, life is about to get quieter. 

And nobody feels 100% ready. 

To the Graduates: Welcome to the “Figure it Out” Chapter

For most of your life, somebody has been handing you the schedule, calling out reminders, and asking so many questions.

Be here at 7:30.

Turn this in by Friday.

Don’t forget your cleats.

Who finished the chips and put the empty bag back in the pantry?

Now, suddenly, people are asking what your five-year plan is, which feels aggressive.

Here’s the good news: You do not need to have everything figured out. Despite what social media, overachieving classmates, and overly enthusiastic relatives may suggest, very few people know exactly what they’re doing at 18. Honestly, a surprising number of people don’t know at 38 either.

This next chapter isn’t about having the perfect plan. It’s about finding yourself, embracing new adventures, meeting a lot of new people, and trying things that might be out of your comfort zone. 

You know what else happens in this chapter? Mistakes. Quite a few of them. And that’s OK! (Just try not to make the kind of mistakes that involve waking up with an infected facial tattoo.) 

No matter what, remember to trust yourself. You know more than you think you do. Your instincts might feel faint at first, but the more you listen, the stronger they get. 

And if you need this reminder, here it is: you can always come home. Because home isn’t just a place. It’s the people who know you, and your stories, and the fact that you load the dishwasher like a circus monkey, and they continue to love you unconditionally. 

No matter how far you go, you’ll always have your home.

To the Parents: Welcome to the Weirdest Chapter Yet

It seems like just yesterday that you were trying to get the perfect first-day-of-kindergarten photo. And now, you’re sitting in a folding chair at an overcrowded graduation, wondering how a child who once ate crayons is suddenly an adult. 

That’s a lot. 

For years, your life has revolved around school calendars, sports schedules, pickup lines, forgotten lunches, and saying things like, “Did you check the portal?”

You should feel relieved. But why don’t you? 

You spent years teaching them to become independent. And now that the time has arrived, your heart has the nerve to act surprised!?! 

It’s Ok (says the mom who hasn’t had to face it yet). 

You will never fully retire from your role. But you will have to allow enough space for them to become who they are meant to become. Trust that they will do the right thing. Believe that mistakes will make them stronger. And have faith that they will continue to grow into the best version of themself. 

And remember that one of the greatest gifts you can give them is a soft place to land and a voice that says, “You don’t have to have it all together. Just keep going.”

The Space In Between

During this transition, you’re experiencing “lasts” and “firsts” all at once. 

There’s one foot in what was, and another foot in what’s coming next.

It’s emotional because it matters.

To all graduates and parents who are in the midst of closing this chapter and opening the next, I encourage you to keep turning the pages - the story is just getting good!