“Get up Harold !”, I yelled to my eighteen year old son. The day has finally come. My little boy isn't so little anymore. The day of his high school graduation finally came, and he can finally move out! Just kidding, but I really don't want his to be late to his special celebration.
These eighteen years went by so fast. I'm so proud of him, and myself. I have raised him right.
As I waited downstairs in the kitchen for Harold with a healthy breakfast, he came downstairs, as slow as possible.
He ate his meal, and I gave him a speech about how proud I am to have an amazing son like him and since we had so much time left before the ceremony, we should visit mom's grave. He gave me a look. I knew what was going through his mind. He didn't want to get all sad thinking about his mother right before his big ceremony, however, we had to go there.
When he was done eating, we got flowers for Caroline's grave. We still had about an hour and a half before the actual ceremony, and the cemetery wasn't that far from Harold now “old” high school where the graduation ceremony was going to take place.
When we drove up to the cemetery, Harold suddenly got really quiet. I could tell it was hard for him to be there.
“You can stay in the car if you want,” I said to him quietly, “you don't have too come with me. I'll just go tell your mother something and put these flowers on her grave.”
Harold got quiet and nodded. He then looked in the other direction than towards Caroline's grave.
“She would be so proud of you. I know she would”, I said to Harold before exiting the car.
I walked over to my wife's grave. It looked so peaceful. It was well taken care of and the grass around it was still green and fresh.
I started telling her about how today is our little boy's high school graduation day. She would be so happy if she was still with us. I didn't forget to tell her how much I miss hes, which was more than a lot. I wish she was here to see all that's been happening and how...