Spent all morning preparing Wil's high school graduation announcements. Had to clear the calendar. Had to clear the mind. Had to clear the distractions. Had to decide this was how I was going to spend my morning, and get psyched up for it.
Today at school, Wil and one of his assistants, will pick up his cap and gown, and the assistant will lovingly and loyally, make sure it gets in his backpack. I'll receive an email later asking if it made it home.
I had to cut off the list of people to send the announcement to, because I could send it to hundreds. His list of friends and family, neighbors and parishioners invested in his education, his path, his future, are innumerable, but number them I did.
While expressing how hard this season is for me, and how I'm dreading graduation day, one person suggested I treat it all as a celebration.
It is a celebration. There is much to celebrate. A whole book's worth, and in fact, that book has been written. But life is a paradox, and the impending graduation punctuates that fact all too well. While a celebration, it is also the closing of a long chapter. A chapter that has been, at many times, an uphill battle, but also one that has offered sanctuary for him, and respite for me.
To announce is to make a formal statement of fact or intention. The only way I'm going to get through the graduation is to focus less on the former, and more on the latter. What is my intention for this next period of life?
The intentions are not any different from any other time, when you think about it:
* To remain open
* To see the good
* To have a positive expectancy
* To believe in the kindness of others
* To remain loving
* To believe and move as though there are no accidents