I just graduated high school. I can’t stop crying. This is a happy occasion, right? Why am I crying?
It is because I’m looking out into the crowd from my coveted (by the underclassmen) spot on stage with my fellow classmates into the eyes of the only people who have never stopped supporting me. And I’m sitting here, my gaze bleared with a single tear, reminiscing on all the times I failed to acknowledge their support and I’m stunned with the realization of how inexplicably fleeting our lives all are. In this single moment--with the sun glistening proudly over the class of 2015, the wind murmuring against the leaves with ambitions for our futures, and the families in the audience keeping their steady loving arms wrapped around us--there are infinite irreplaceable happenings. There will never be this same group of people gathered together ever again. There will never be the same mixture of incoherent thoughts rambling through the newly graduated students’ minds. There will never be the same stories brought together in harmonious celebration of success ever again. And as we, the high school class of 2015, sit beaming with smiles underneath tear-stained eyes, cheer, “We made it!” and, “I’ll miss you!,” we also say a hackneyed “thank you” to our parents.
But my "thank you," though it may seem platitudinous and obligatory, is genuine. In the context of graduation day, it seems as though I’m spitting back the gratitude merely because I’ve been told that I’d be nowhere without you. I promise, this time, my "thank you" is genuine.
Since before my first breath, you’ve pondered my success--if I’d be good at sports (I’m not), if I’d ride horses (I don’t), or if I’d sing (I try). You’ve wondered where my path would lead me--you’ve put more thought into who I’d become than I have. And you’ve put more work into nudging me onto the right track than I have put into doing it myself. You’ve clapped for my first steps, you’ve hung up countless silly doodles from elementary school art classes, and now--sitting in the hot June air--you’re celebrating the end of high school and the beginning of my next journey.
So as I sit here trying to hold myself together (because I don't like to show my emotions--not even to you) I'm losing it. Next year, when I'm away from home for the first time, unable to say "thank you" in person every time you make me smile or give me that extra needed push of motivation, because you truly believe that I can do it. I'll remember the way you tucked me in when I was little, and I'll tuck myself in, knowing that even though you're miles away, you believe in me. And you're thinking about my path--how far I've come and how far I still have yet to go.
But wherever I end up, it's because of you. If I'm an astronaut, it's because you steered my rocket in the right direction and aimed me toward the stars. If I'm a writer, it's because you put the pen in my hand and gave me experiences worth sharing. If I'm a lawyer, it's because you built the courtroom and taught me how to fight for justice. So, for all the times my gratitude went unspoken and you're devotion went unacknowledged, I'm sorry. And for all the things you have done to get me where I am--working the extra shifts, telling me I'm capable, and just being there--and all the things I'm sure you will do in the future, all I can muster is an insufficient two words: "thank you."
So thank you--to my parents and everyone who has never stopped believing in me.
