Second Graduation

It’s almost that time, the day every parent looks forward to. It means that their kids are on the right track to being on there own. It’s the day every teenager looks forward to since the day they had to wake up early to go to school. I remember the excitement of my class mates; none of them could wait to finally be free of the prison they call high school. Most of the excitement was towards prom. Who’s going with whom, the rented limosins, and most importantly what to wear. I smile at the memory thinking of how this excitement failed to penetrate me, how I’m more excited now then I was then. As I’m thinking this Amla shows me the dress she is planning to wear under her graduation gown. She looks like a young woman who has a bright future ahead of her. You can hear the optimism in her every sentence and see it in her body language. There is no hardness in her eyes that you tend to see on older people or on the rare cases; kids who have had to struggle all of their lives. I am both glad and worried that she has yet to experience any hardships in life. Her bright smile brings pride and joy to my heart as if her accomplishment were my own. I tell her she looks beautiful and that it almost time to go. The ride to school is quiet with only the soft hum of the radio in the background. You can sence the nervous tension in Amla by the way her fist bunch up and the tapping of her foot. We arrive at her school I give her one last hug as if though she is going on a long trip and it’ll be a while until I see her again. All of a sudden my eyes are stinging and I blink rapidly to keep the tears from spilling over. I wonder if that is how my mother felt the fierce joy but the reluctance to let me go. She is off and I take my seat next to the man I have known for quite some time. I can see that our expressions mirror each others with both pride and joy. We share a silent message as if to “not bad, I guess we did it.” One of the students gives a long speech and I can sence the impatients of the other parents who can’t wait to see ther kids up on stage. I am also getting impatient but I am carefull not to showing any of my imotions a skill I have long since perfected. The principal comes up and gives a short speech for this I am greatfull not only because I want to see Amla but also because the wind has pick up. They start with calling up the names and you can tell who the persons family members are because as soon as the name is called a group stands up and starts clapping/screaming wildly. We are almost on the section of the letter M the anticipation is getting to me and I have to fight in order not to fiddle. The man sitting next to me has long since given up trying to play cool; he sighs and taps on the bench next to us. I get both worried and confused when they move on to N without calling Amla’s name I turn a questioning look towards the man next to me but I can see right away that he is as confused as I am. The principal is announcing R now then I hear her say “Rodriguez Me… Amla.” My tears spill over freely because I know that my daughter has requested this announcement in my honor.