High school graduation is a funny thing. It’s like someone decided that, come May, a whole group of kids with strikingly different personalities, athletic abilities, intellects, and social skills would one day wake up and know how to handle adulthood. Every year, it’s May. Unless you live in the north, I suppose, and then I guess it’s June. Must take longer for our friends who frolic in the snow to “man up.”
Well, it’s here. It’s May. And my first baby is graduating tonight. This is the kid who waited patiently for the better part of a decade for his superpowers to come in. This is the kid who watched YouTube videos on how to fart in class without being caught, and then taught his baby sister the tricks of the trade. This kid, all too recently, called me and said he couldn’t get home because it was too foggy to drive, only to realize that the “fog” disappeared once he defrosted his windshield. It’s times like these that make me hold my breath and wonder why someone picked “May.”
But there are far more times that I know he’s ready. He’s smart. If I want to know something about nutrition or exercise or anything I should’ve picked up in science class or through common sense, I call Tyler.
He’s kind. He’s always made sure the new kids were taken care. He doesn’t let people carry something that he can handle easier. He’s prayed with and for his friends, and then he’s carried those burdens home and asked for advice on how to best help out in a million different situations.
The kid is the most family-focused person I know. I wanted to skip off to Florida for Thanksgiving a couple of years ago, but Tyler said no “because we’d miss lunch with family.” Tyler never walks past a grandparent he doesn’t hug. He’s going to school nearby so that he can watch his sister and brother grow up.
And Tyler knows what he wants to do with his life. He wants to help people live their own best lives. He envisions himself landing in nuclear engineering, mixed with some personal training and perhaps a bit of ministry. I’m not worried about the particulars — they’ll fall into place.
I’ve always known that I would miss Tyler terribly once he became independent. And I’ve always known the goal was to get him to independence. It’s a crazy double-edged sword. At every birthday, every holiday, every last day of school, I’d tell myself we were one year closer to, well, tonight. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to hold onto time, though, it still finds a way to slip through your fingers.
Tyler is obviously the graduate I’ll miss the most, but he’s far from the only one walking tonight who I’ll miss. I’ll miss the kid who drove over our lawn furniture, then followed it up by knocking out a taillight. I’ll miss the kids who stop by my office at school for snacks and the kid who shows up like clockwork when Xay makes pho. I’m gonna miss the “gamers” who bring their own tvs to my house and drink four gallons of chocolate milk a night. I’m going to miss his football family. I’ll miss the girlfriends — and the girls who are friends. My favorite sound in the whole world is one of my kids laughing with their friends. I’m going to miss the laughter that the class of 2019 has brought into our home and our lives.
When Tyler got hurt in September, a room full of kids packed his hospital room. There was so much laughter in the room that night, the nurse had to ask us to quiet down more than once. What could’ve been an awful memory was turned into an incredible one because kids showed up to spend their Friday night with one of their own who was hurt. The love that these kids showed my son made this momma’s heart burst with joy. Kudos to the moms and dads who raised this bunch.
When Tyler got hurt in November, the evening was much bleaker. Because he had stopped breathing in the hospital, the medical staff had to bag him and give him Narcan to get him back to us. He obviously wasn’t feeling well when they transferred him from the ER to a room that night. And, you know what? Those same kids showed up that night, too. They got him wet rags and held pails as he threw up. They rubbed his back. They brought him pillows. They were much quieter, but they stayed in an attempt to lift his spirits. It was that night, as I watched a room full of teenagers jump in to help out, that I knew these kids had grown up. Even though we hadn’t reached May.
They’re going to make it. And I’m going to miss them.
PHOMSITHI'S PLAYGROUND 
Love from a very proud Uncle. Grandma Tyler is beaming with pride from above. She sure loved that child.
Well, that turned me into a big crybaby! What an awesome young man he has turned out to be! Great job, mom & dad! 1 down 2 to go!