Graduation Day
It must be June. The AP teachers are packing their bags and heading to Daytona Beach, Florida, for their annual "reading of the essays." Essays...the AP students have already forgotten them. Yearbooks are being traded around the senior tables, pages easily being filled in shiny glitter pens. There must be some larger plot there, the seniors think. Writing down feelings is so unnatural for most of them, but something about the glossy paper in back of a book full of mug shots makes it easier. Especially for the seniors.
It's raining outside. The first time in forever that it's rained on the last day of school. The seniors wonder if it's a bad omen. Only rain in their futures? Perhaps. But as time passes, so will the horror surrounding the class of 2005, and this summer will be one to remember. The first time they were really free. Didn't have to go back to the same old building come the last week of August. There were choices to be made now.
My daughter sent the above to me in an e-mail on the last day of school this year. I thought it was so good that I wanted everyone to be able to see it. Congratulations, Maren. You're the best daughter a dad could ask for.
Love you, Punkin.
It's raining outside. The first time in forever that it's rained on the last day of school. The seniors wonder if it's a bad omen. Only rain in their futures? Perhaps. But as time passes, so will the horror surrounding the class of 2005, and this summer will be one to remember. The first time they were really free. Didn't have to go back to the same old building come the last week of August. There were choices to be made now.
My daughter sent the above to me in an e-mail on the last day of school this year. I thought it was so good that I wanted everyone to be able to see it. Congratulations, Maren. You're the best daughter a dad could ask for.
Love you, Punkin.
Comments