Graduation Revelations
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My daughter asked me yesterday if I were getting her a present for graduation. "From fourth grade?" I asked, aghast. Was this child raised by wolves? Visions of Veruca Salt went through my head as I tried to calmly explain that no, in our house, finishing fourth grade was just considered a normal obligation. Her sister, who had just finished elementary school, would not be getting a present for that, either. I went on to say that their daddy and I were quite proud of how hard they had worked in school this year, and we were glad that it had been a good year, and all that proper parenting stuff that is really important but sometimes sounds canned when it comes out of my mouth.
But it got me thinking about graduation and gifts. I do think that it is important to commemorate big accomplishments with gifts--birthdays, weddings, significant wedding anniversaries, babies, the usual. And the way my brain works, I always want those presents to be really symbolic, something that will forever commemorate the occasion and be passed down and cherished for generations: Look honey, this is the watch that Aunt Mamie gave Uncle Dwight for winning World War II. It was under his watch...you get the picture.
But insisting on this additional layer of meaning to a gift just bogs me down to no end, and the number of gifts I am meaning to give that are lodged somewhere between procrastination and burning shame in my life is growing like impetigo on an unwashed little boy at summer camp. It's pretty gross.
Since it is always easier to tell others what to do than to actually make improvements in our own lives, I have two thoughts for those of you looking to give presents during this graduation season. One is for the graduate, and the other is for the graduate's mother, who may be acting proud, happy, eager to send Junior on to higher education, but who in actual fact is probably more than a little broken up about the end of an era.
For the graduate, anything you get will probably be deigned not cool, not the right color, not conceivably useful or will be a duplicate of an offering from some other well meaning friend or relation. I suggest providing a "flat present" as we call them at our house: a little something green and folding. And tuck this poem into it. I wish somebody had drilled this concept into my head when I graduated from high school.
Advice to My Son
The trick is, to live your days
as if each one may be your last
(for they go fast, and young men lose their lives
in strange and unimaginable ways)
but at the same time, plan long range
(for they go slow: if you survive
the shattered windshield and the bursting shell
you will arrive
at our approximation here below
of heaven or hell).To be specific, between the peony and the rose
plant squash and spinach, turnips and tomatoes;
beauty is nectar
and nectar, in a desert, saves--
but the stomach craves stronger sustenance
than the honied vine.
Therefore, marry a pretty girl
after seeing her mother;
speak truth to one man,
work with another,
and always serve bread with your wine.But, son,
always serve wine.Peter Meinke, excerpted from Poetspeak.
And for the mother, I suggest a little empathy, a toast to her success, and a big laugh. And I have just the book to provide it: Louise Parsley's Revelations in the Rear-view Mirror: One Mother's Hard-won and Hilarious Epiphanies on the Road to the Empty Nest. It's a collection of essays on the career life of a mother, and it brings all the bends in the road from Apgar to kindergarten entrance tests to SAT to graduation into hysterical relief. And it will give her something to do after Junior drives off to the U.
Somehow I get the feeling that when mine make that drive, they'll be bucking for a new car. I think I'll give them a nice poem instead.
It's so much more meaningful!
* Like the photo? Down load it and send it to a friend as a postcard--another meaningful and inexpensive graduation gift, if you happen to have an affiliation with the University of Virginia.
