Graduation Day
I can remember my excitement on the day each of my older children graduated high school and then college. It’s gotta be one of the most proud days of being a parent. It’s been 30-years-plus since they graduated from elementary school.
And here I am, fast-forward to Present Day, enjoying the moment again. It’s May, and Aaron just graduated from second grade, and he is so proud that he is now going to be a third grader in the fall! And… I am proud too, 2020 was a rough year for him as it was for his schoolmates and so many other children around the world, and he’s managed to pull through.
It was particularly jarring the sudden separation from his classmates, then finding himself in front of a computer every day for hours on end. As so many like him, Aaron floundered with online education, it really didn’t work for him.
He was alone at home, without classmates, without an in-person teacher, while his school was still in session - it was my decision to take him out and keep him home. During the length of most of the year the only time he was able to talk to friends was on his computer and he really missed playing sports with his pals.
And, as if this wasn’t life-changing enough, I came down with Covid-19 right before the Hanukkah/Christmas holidays. It almost cost me my life. Aaron had to watch me being rushed to hospital by paramedics, then deal with me in the hospital. Since I was not allowed any hospital visitors I would facetime him at night... he would just cry on our calls.
“Daddy, when you are coming home?”
“Soon, sweetheart. Soon.” But the truth was I didn’t know if I would ever come home.
To his mounting fright, his Mom also came down with the virus and soon after so did he. His was mild, but his Mom was burning up with a relentless fever and cough and yet she just kept going, mindful of my wellbeing and Aaron’s. December 2020 and January 2021 became a horror show for Aaron.
I was finally released from hospital in February, and he had to watch me on an oxygen machine for the next three months. He helped me when I was finally able to use a walker and then when I started to use a walking cane. Aaron, his mother and my family were my life support and they are the reason I pushed myself out of that bed.
I was keenly aware of how affected he was by my condition. Any sound I made, any noise I made, Aaron would run into the run to check on me.
“Daddy, are you ok?”
I’ve been told that he would often sneak into the bedroom while I was sleeping to make sure I was breathing...
So, Aaron had it tough going.
Once I was better in April, I put him back in school and, having been issued a portable oxygen tank I was able to drive him to and pick him up from school. In so many ways that first day I drove him back felt like the first day of any school year. He was excitedly talking about school, about his backpack, about his new pencils, about seeing his friends and talking with his teachers, whom he loves; and in so many ways it was indeed a new beginning.
He had suddenly stopped talking and I could see through the rearview mirror that he had become pensive while looking at me. “Uh-oh,” I thought. “He’s worried about something happening to me.”
“Son, you’re going to have a great time at school, and I’m going to be just fine, ok?” I was hoping that I could diffuse any stress before it might become a call from school every couple of hours to check on me - or worse, he might just decide to stay on online schooling for the rest of the year, fearful that something might happen to me.
“I know, Dad. I just don’t see the point of wearing a uniform. Do I really need to wear this? I didn’t wear it at home? Why do I need to wear it? It’s so uncomfortable…”
And he ranted-on for a bit. I nodded in understanding, trying desperately not to laugh out loud. I was relieved.
That’s when I knew the kid was going to be fine.
May is here, Graduation Day is here, and he’s wearing his uniform, and I am grateful for the moment of clarity and hope it unwittingly gifted me with.