Sweeter After Difficulties

My son Lucas graduated from High School last week. It was a celebration. I haven’t been in a crowded setting like that or seen so many flowy sundresses in ages. The energy was palpable. We were there for a common purpose and that fostered a community spirit. I met more new people there than the last two years combined. People were open to connections, and we cheered on the graduates, all of them, without shame. 

These are kids who spent over two of their four years in high school either learning online or dealing with Covid restrictions. Each student was given the opportunity to write twenty words to go along with their walk across the stage. Only one of the 460 graduates mentioned Covid. Instead, they were thanking their parents and expressing their greatest wishes for the life ahead. Their determination, their ability to navigate a new world, and their surprise that they actually made it were truly inspiring.

But, I have also been processing what appears to be a lot of grief the last few days. As I sat in the parking lot of the flower shop where I was going to order Lucas’s graduation lei, I was overcome by a wave of emotion. The tears poured out, almost out of nowhere. The next day, as I explained to my 11 year old twins the order of the graduation ceremony and I hummed the graduation song for them, I choked up, unable to continue singing. As Lucas left for graduation rehearsal, I tried to process the myriad of emotions I have been feeling. Some are normal responses to raising a child to adulthood. But, I noticed that some of what I am feeling is unresolved grief.

You see, my oldest son Micah graduated from high school in June of 2020. One day in March he was attending classes, and then a few hours later, he never went back to his high school. It shut down completely. We ordered his cap and gown and took pictures on what would have been his graduation day.

But, as I sat next to him at his brother’s graduation last week, I felt grief for the graduation, the prom, the grad night, all the goodbyes he never had. 

Graduations are a moment to pause and recognize that one chapter in life is ending and another is beginning. We don’t get many of these moments in life. Perhaps, a milestone birthday, a wedding, a baby shower. I didn’t realize the extent of this loss until Lucas’s graduation ceremony was over and we were taking group shots with all his friends. That closure, the moment to say good-bye, to recognize a job well done. These are moments that Micah did not experience, and I don’t think he fully comprehended what he missed until he showed up for his brother’s graduation.

There is a Latin phrase used in The Lost City movie (2022) that encapsulates the depth of emotion I have felt this past week: dulcius ex asperis, sweeter after difficulties. As a community, we have all been impacted by Covid, in a myriad of ways. My grief is still being processed; it is often simmering right below the surface, and I am learning to accept that it will take time to heal. However, there was definitely something sweeter about Lucas’s graduation. The joy palpated in the air. We were there to celebrate and we were there to grieve, but mainly we were there for the chance to witness both a culmination and a new beginning.

                                                                      By Jennifer Metten Pantoja