Yesterday, our church celebrated our graduates at mass. As they processed up the aisle at the start of mass, a big ol' ball of emotion lodged itself right in my throat and before I knew it, I was fighting tears...and here's the kicker: I hadn't even seen my OWN child yet.
Then, there he was. A smile spread wide across his face and I was DONE. D-O-N-E, DONE! Trying to discretely swipe at my eyes while a sea of purple gowns and mortar caps filed into pews in front of us. Holy moly guys.
18 years ago I was terrified. Pregnant, young, unmarried, and absolutely, positively scared out of my mind. All I knew is that I was NOT going to become a statistic. I was going to make a life for my baby and "show them all" that I would be different. I would get my college degree. I would support my baby and myself if I needed. I would raise this baby up with a life that belied everything that the word "teen mom" connotes.
And here we are. His high school graduation one week away. Plans for him to head off to college in just a few short months.
We did it.
I am so unbelievably proud of this kiddo, the young man that he is and the man he has yet to become.
Will someone please remind me to bring tissues to graduation next Sunday? I have a feeling I'm going to need a box of them.