Well, a big day at my house today. Or tonight, actually, but it got me thinking about my graduation.
I remember it being not the best time in my life. I did not want to be there. I wanted to be at Jordan High in Sandy, Utah, graduating with my friends and the kids I grew up with. Instead, I was at Mesa High, a place that I liked but it was not really home. My parents bought me a ticket to attend that graduation in Sandy for my gift and I was leaving the next day, and I could not wait to go. But first I had to get through mine.
I had some friends at Mesa, but most of them were Juniors or Sophomores. It was hard to befriend with the seniors because they were already in their groups. I can't blame them. And moving in the middle of your senior year is never a great thing, no matter who you are or what the situation is.
It was a very memorable night, my graduation. For one thing, we got to have it outside, something that never happened at Jordan. And, a few weeks before, one of our high school football stars had been in an accident coming home from Senior Prom. He was paralyzed from the chest down. And, such a cool thing, he came to get his diploma! He was transported in an ambulance onto the football field. He was brought out on a gurney and the Principal presented the diploma to him in front of the whole school and their parents. I don't think there was a dry eye on the field, or the stands, for that matter.
It was beautiful!
And it was sad at the same time. The whole thing put my problems into perspective. My problems were nothing compared to Carl Crawford's. I remember being very happy that I had my diploma, and that it was over. I think I also cried all the way home, (and we walked!) only because it was not Jordan.
Thank goodness for my parents! They knew exactly what I needed and that was to go home, or to go to Sandy. And I discovered my greatest lesson: You can't go home again. So much changes and where you hang your hat is where home is. And even though I got to spend time with my friends, my greatest joy was visiting with my cousins, grandpas, aunts and uncles. (especially a certain cousin in Pleasant Grove, who I promised to write while he was on his mission!!!)
Funny how it took having kids graduate from Mesa to discover my loyalty to it. I am proud to be a Mesa Jackrabbit, or a Beetdigging Jackrabbit, as I like to say!
