It’s graduation season and one of the weirdest things about this is that if life had played out a bit differently for Kathy and me, we might very well be busy blowing up balloons and making little diploma-shaped party favors for Meredith Marie Berg’s or Bryan Paul Berg’s high school graduation. . . (and frantically filling out financial aid forms.) But instead, we get to be the party-goers rather than the party-givers, and that’s okay too, especially when the parties are in honor of such neat young people as Laura Hermanns and Eric Ripley and Justin Marschall.
But boy, this makes me feel SO old – seeing someone who just yesterday had a pacifier in their mouth suddenly being fitted for their cap and gown. Sometimes I think being the parent of the youngster in question makes some difference, for surely you have more of an ongoing sense of them growing up, if for no other reason than because you have to keep replacing their clothes, transfer them to new schools, and experience all the day-to-day stuff of raising children. But when you’re more like interested spectators in someone’s life, as Kathy and I are with these graduates, it seems all but unavoidable to one day turn around and be absolutely stunned that they are 18 and about to leave home. “WHAT?!?!?!” I’m tempted to shriek, “When did this happen?!?!?! Why weren’t we notified?!?!?!” It’s especially unnerving to see Laura about to graduate, because we remember when she was born. And wasn’t it yesterday, to quote “Sunrise Sunset,” that they were small? Suddenly I have become Aunt Bertha who walks up to her teenage nieces and nephews at family gatherings, pinches them on the cheek and says “My, but you’re growing.” At Laura’s graduation party, I was the old geezer telling stories about when Laura as a very very young girl had to get some sort of retainer to fix her bite. All that was missing was a bottle of Geritol at my side. It would be tempting to turn the clock back to those simpler days, except that Laura has grown up into a spectacular young woman- incredibly intelligent and compassionate, beautiful inside and out, and someone who will make a very big difference in the world. Why in the world should I want to turn her back into the little girl who was so adorable and entertaining? Only for the selfish desire to gain back some of the time which has flown by so quickly. “Where does the time go?” Grandma Walton asked in my favorite episode of The Waltons, as she stares at a picture of herself as a young girl. She’s just realized that she’s losing her hearing, a sign of old age’s inevitable encroachment. I’m not yet in need of a hearing aid, but these graduation parties do have me feeling more like Grandma Walton than I care to admit.
At least with a relatively new young friend like Eric Ripley (whose dad was a friend of mine at Luther and is now the music department chair at Carthage) I have no recollection of the days when he was learning to walk or saying his first words. . . but even with someone I’ve only known for seven years, it’s still astonishing to see him about to graduate from high school. And although I haven’t seen him grow up as I’ve seen Laura grow up, his proud parents had a display of photos in the living room which included this neat little framed collage of his school pictures from kindergarten through to the present day – and in one glance you can see the little boy growing up into a fine young man. It’s astonishing how this happens – and also thrilling, especially when the person in question grows up into someone as neat as Eric is. And as I look at that picture, I try to imagine what it must feel like to be Jim and Kathy, his parents – to have raised such a splendid son . . . but also to know that his days under your roof are dwindling down to a precious few. Adding to the poignancy of the day in an unexpected way: as I was talking with Jim’s mom and Kathy’s sister, both from my home state of Iowa, talk eventually turned to the children’s show both Kathy Ripley and I grew up watching – Dr. Max. The next thing I know, Kathy is rummaging through her “box of treasures” in the basement and emerges a couple of minutes later with her copy of “The Important Book,” a little booklet of games and puzzles that you could order from Dr. Max. She had carefully and lovingly written her name and age on the cover – I think she was seven or eight – and now here she is, the same person, about to have her first born son graduate from high school. If that doesn’t represent the Circle of Life, I don’t know what does.
Eric’s school picture collage, by the way, reminds me of a wall at the home of our church friends Steve and Dawn Barootian – a wall covered with the school photos of their son Nick and their daughter Mari. One of the last times I was in their house, looking at those photos, was the day before Nick went into Froedert Hospital to have brain surgery. . . and in fact, this Sunday afternoon “party” included a ceremonial shaving of his head in the prep for the surgery, and a prayer spoken by Pastor Kris Capel that all would go well. And thank heavens, all went wonderfully well and Nick is now better than ever. But I remember that afternoon looking at those photos of Nick back in elementary school, smiling so adorably for the camera – and realizing that no one at the time, including his parents, could have possibly known that major brain surgery was going to be in his future. We have no way of knowing where life’s road will take us – or how long the road will be – but there is nothing more important at life’s important junctures than to stop and give thanks for where you have been and the blessings you have been given. . .and to look to the years ahead with hope and expectation.
Lord, open thou mine eyes that I may see Thee.
Lord, open thou my lips that I may praise Thee.
Lord, open thou my heart that I may love Thee,
Serve Thee with joy – fear none above Thee.
Christ be my sword and shield, my strong defender.
Christ be my Light and my Redeemer.
Lord, be with me this day in each endeavor.
Lord, keep my soul with Thee now and forever.Christ, be my guide today – my guide tomorrow.
Christ in my days of joy, my days of sorrow.
Christ in the silent hours when I lie sleeping,
Safe in His holy angels’ keeping.
Christ be within the hearts of all who love me.
Christ all around and Christ above me.
Christ in my thought and prayer and my confessing.
Christ when I go to rest, Grant me Your blessing.
— John Rutter’s adaption of a prayer of Lancelot Andrewes and of St. Patrick’s Breastplate. I sang these wonderful words in Carthage’s recent performance of Rutter’s Mass of the Children.