Last year, and again this year, high school graduation is different.  Mothers rant about how their child is ‘ripped off’ of a graduation that was to be a gathering of classmates and friends to celebrate.  This grates on the nerves of some fellow grief warriors; the retort is at least their child is here to graduate. Death robbed us of this. 

Zane took University in stride.  He wanted to ensure he had a life balance so planned his courses accordingly stretching a 4 year degree into 7. He purposely chose to have all his favorite electives completed in the last year to finish with a slow and enjoyable end.  He was to graduate in June of 2019. He was killed in August of 2018.

It was the first action I took in honor of my son. He was just a few electives short of getting his degree.  A letter came from the President of the University that included his condolences and recognizing that our son was on the Dean’s list for his efforts.  He mentioned a posthumous degree and included the name of the staff member that could give me more information.  I called her right away. 

It was no easy feat; in fact it took months of trips to Court and the University to make this happen.  I was relentless and would not give up which included a meltdown in the Court bathroom (after application rejection number two) and the support of Nicole, the University staff member who pulled me back on to the ledge several times with extended deadlines and reassuring phone calls.  She was one of my Angels.

In the end, I gave the honor of crossing the stage to my husband.  It was a Father’s Day gift. Our family sat front row, watching Jon step onto the stage and shake hands, and accept Zane’s degree. We took pictures there of us and of Ryan, his friend and study-buddy; they were supposed to graduate together.  And in a sense they did. Then we came home to share a quiet, reflective drink in my boys’ honor.

So, I get the frustration of any graduate who is entitled but can’t be in a collective group and shout to the heavens “we did it”.  Graduation is a rite of passage that was earned from years of stress, late nights and hard work. How we envision it should be and how sometimes it actually is can be sad.  It can be downright heart-wrenching.  This is the only time that this graduation will happen and the graduates are robbed of it due to something out of their control. It is a loss.

This understanding brings a bit of compassion for the mothers who share on social media the angst of their child not being able to celebrate in a fashion they had expected. They are reacting to loss. And as one mother who has experienced the biggest loss of all, oh, how I get it.