Well, Mark helped me out quite a bit with his little stunt at the awards ceremony, because when graduation rolled around a day and a half later, the only emotion I felt was anger. I was still so mad, I didn't even bring my camera with me--which, for most people, is like saying "I didn't bring any air to breathe." Me without my camera at an event this big is like a fish without water--a stubborn, angry mom fish with an ingrate baby.
I started the day early--6 a.m., to be precise, setting up chairs at the school. I dragged Mark along with me, with the warning I'd better not hear one complaint.
"I have to set up chairs for my own graduation?" he whined.
"This is karmic retribution," I reminded him. That shut him up.
We finished the set up, then I raced home to get ready. Sean forgott his hair chair at the house the day before, so he and Liz stopped by to get it, which was nice, the boys spending their last morning together. While Sean gelled his hair, Mark straightened his bow tie and continually readjusted his red satin pocket square.
Fernando helped too, rubbing up against the leg of Mark's black pants. He couldn't leave Mark alone, shedding half a cat's worth of orange hair on to Mark's pants.
Finally, it was time to go. The boys walked to school together one last time (waaahhhh!), and I loaded my parents and Liz in the car.
The quad was already filled when we got there. Families were fanning themselves in the sun, and straining to find their kids in the crowd. Edra and Monica waved us down, and I joined them in our seats.
Mark was with the band, fiddling with the drums, and acting silly with the other drummers. But he ditched them as the ceremony started, to stroll down the aisle with all the other graduating 8th graders.
It was such a sight to see...I did get a little emotional then, as the kids walked up the row, two by two. The girls all towered over the boys, probably for the last time. They wore pretty sun dresses and mile-high heels, trying unsuccessfully to navigate the uneven lawn as they walked. The boys all wore dress shirts and ties, with nervous smiles. I nodded to them, all of Mark's friends since third grade--there's Kyler, so handsome in his purple shirt, and Tristan, over six feet tall now! There's Kevin, in a fancy suit, and Jonah, with his hair smoothed back and medals shining around his chest. There's Damian, also super tall, and with a shaggy 'do he can't stop shaking, and Josh, beaming proudly as he struts down the aisle. It was a short walk to their seats, but a long trip down memory lane.
The principal gave her opening remarks, then passed the mic to the students.
"We did it!" one girl sighed, prompting cheers from the graduates, as though they'd conquered not just 8th grade, but the impossible.
The kids introduced a favorite teacher, Mr. Estrada, the keynote speaker. He's a tough guy, always correcting the kids gruffly, and calling them out when needed. But he loves those kids--he is seriously at every single school event, taking photos and cheering the kids on. He may be tough, but he got a little emotional while reminiscing on the kids' journey over the past three years. As he walked off the stage to wild applause, I was grateful for him and all the other wonderful role models at this school.
I was holding it together pretty well until the principal called up the first graders. As they filed into the bleachers, a little curly-headed boy and the sweetest little girl climbed onstage, dragging step stools with them. They planted the steps directly in front of the mic, climbed atop them, and said, in perfect synchronization, "Hello, 8th graders. Do you remember when you were in first grade and sang this song? Now we're gonna sing it for you."
They pointed to the kids in the bleachers, who started singing "What a wonderful World" as all the adults lost it. Dirty trick, principal!, I thought, as the water works began. Not cool!
Finally, it was time. The 8th graders lined up, and the principal announced that she'd tell us a little bit about each kid as they accepted their diplomas.
"I asked each child about their favorite Cubberley memory, or where they'll be 10 years from now," she announced, and I broke into a cold sweat.
"How nervous are you about what Mark's gonna say?" my friend Holly whispered from across the aisle.
"Pretty nervous!" I answered. "You?"
"Very!" Holly said. Mark and Kyler, always the class clowns, gave us good reason to worry!
I listened as the other kids were called. Some had lofty dreams, saying they saw themselves 10 years from now graduated from Ivy League colleges, working as computer programmers or doctors. There were quite a few who saw themselves as NBA stars, or lawyers, or even travelling the world.
And then, suddenly, there was Mark, striding confidently across the quad, shaking hands with all his teachers.
I held my breath, waited, then exhaled with relief as the principal announced that in 10 years, Mark saw himself as a kindergarten teacher, and a UCLA graduate. This was a dream I could live with!
And then, soon after, it was over. The principal declared the kids promoted, and wished them well in high school. The kids cheered and jumped out of their seats.
Mark ran off to collect his portfolio, and I stood there, taking one final look around the quad.
Good-bye, Cubberley, I thought wistfully, welling up a bit again. Thank you for taking such good care of my kid.
I was grateful Mark had such a wonderful academic career here, and for his amazing nurse, the teachers who helped shape him into the kid he'd now become, and all the great kids and parents I met along the way.
"Ready, Mom?" Mark asked, quietly slipping beside me. I nodded, even consenting to a few photos.
And then we were off to a celebratory lunch--and a whole new beginning.
I just hope I'm as ready for the next few years as Mark is...
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