By Jill Greenwood
Moments are fleeting. They come and go in an instant. Four years ago, we loaded an SUV to the gills and packed four adults into it for a two-hour drive to Philadelphia. Ten hours later, two adults came home feeling deflated and depressed but hopeful for the two adults they left behind. The moments in between flashed by in an instant. Trips to and from the train station. The occasional football game. Moving vans to get from one apartment to another. Olive in Philadelphia. Olive in the Poconos. “Can you put money in my account?” Texting at odd hours. Playing Words With Friends with one and Skyping on Sundays with the other.
And now, the moments are fleeting again. He looks out the window, one day away from graduation, surveying a city we’ve come to enjoy. Tonight, we celebrate the successes that they’ve earned from their professors. We’ll listen to a professor speak so glowingly of our daughter that I can’t help but tear up. We’ll meet colleagues of our other daughter and know that she’s made the right choice for her future. Later, we’ll find our way to a local restaurant and celebrate with our families because without their love and support, our children never would have become the women that they are. Tomorrow, we watch them proudly march in with their fellow graduates and sit through speeches from people they are likely to forget. They will pose for pictures (and get a little testy) and celebrate even more but holding on to the moments while they can.
Monday we’ll have a new theme since it is June.