Bittersweet–adjective:  both pleasant and painful. 

The girl will wear a cap and gown today and walk across a stage to acknowledge her success in education.  Bittersweet.

Watching her participate in the rehearsal earlier in the week,  I teared up as she sat with 352 other high school seniors eagerly awaiting the next chapter of their life.  I purposefully sat where she could see me.  Mingled with students she barely knows, she would glance up at me time and time again.  Bittersweet.

Last night a woman I barely know asked me if I was excited and if she was headed to college in the fall. Bittersweet.

Part of me feels like there should be some sort of ceremony for me.  Crazy at that sounds, it is the end of a chapter for me too and I want to stand up and shout from the rooftops.  I want to celebrate and be seen. This day is a day of accomplishment for me too.  I want the years of worry and fear and frustration and tears and advocating to be recognized.  I wonder if anyone notices how hard we both worked.  Bittersweet.

When I asked the girl what person she would like to have a quote by next to her picture in the yearbook, she said Martin Luther King Jr.  She chose this quote: “Faith is taking the first step even when you can’t see the whole staircase.” 



One thought on “Bittersweet

  1. What is next?

    When my kids were in their mid teens, I went back to school to become a legal secretary. I told them that I needed to have something to do when they didn’t need me anymore.

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