Next Stop: Nicolet High

For the past month or so, Lily has been ready and excited for high school. She didn't seem sad or scared. I think her positive attitude rubbed off on me. Nostalgia can rule my emotions especially at times like this, but I found myself looking ahead eagerly instead of behind longingly. I won't lie and say I wasn't surprised by both of our mind sets, but it was a good surprise. And yes, I should have known better.

After the lovely ceremony and dance Thursday night, the finality of this promotion hit her hard. She came home with a heavy heart and wet eyes. All I could do was listen. She needed to feel all the feels. She didn't need fixing. Everything she was saying was fresh and familiar from this same time in my life decades ago. I could still tap into that particular loss, those fears and regrets. I let her exhaust her tears because grief is a healing process that must begin to end. 

The healing started before bed that night and the excitement will build again gradually. Grief will linger...likely forever, but the sweet starts to temper the bitter. It will be a dance. Delicate at times. Daunting at others, but ultimately delicious. She'll always have a special place in her heart for this place and time, for the safety and the familiarity of the known. Expectations are changing, the curriculum will be more rigorous, more independence is expected, a large part of the population will be new, and everything is just a little more serious. That's a lot of pressure, but I know the kind of student, friend and citizen she is and I know she will bloom brighter, connect strongly, grow leaps, travel far.

Truthfully, when I watched the procession, I was blown away by how mature they all looked. Especially the girls. Some of the boys looked like much younger siblings, but we know girls mature faster and also have the benefit of make-up. Well, benefit may be a strong word. Lily wore a little mascara and lipstick, and she had a pretty manicure. She was radiant. The speeches were eloquent and also impactful. One classmate talked about being present, another about overcoming obstacles and the last about defining their own futures. They all agreed that this beginning was another beginnings end. I started to feel verklempt myself because, of course, it's true. Things won't be the same again. They may be better, but different is always scary even with promising skies on the bright horizon.

She walked across the stage, accepted her diploma, shook hands. No one tripped. Not even the girls wearing heels for the first time. Amen. They all sort of made a made dash of a recessional. It was as if they couldn't wait for what was to come, but there were already some tears and plenty of nerves that likely sped the pace. She smiled coyly at our almost full aisle of family calling her name. She's blessed...we're blessed...to have such a loyal cheering section. We gave her hugs and high fives and took some pictures before leaving her with her friends for their final farewell.

The rest of us came home to Casa Wags where we toasted the grad, tasted my version of strawberry shortcake, and looked at old pictures of Lily all the while confirming that indeed years are minutes.