(Don’t worry, in another four years I will be writing this post again. Or maybe just reposting this one with changes. We’ll see what happens.)
On Thursday, my son will graduate middle school. I will officially be the parent of a high-schooler.
I know I’m not alone. I know there are other parents feeling the same way. I also know that other students with special needs have come before my son and have gone on to graduate and live productive, happy lives. I know that that brass ring is finally coming into view. It’s what we have worked so hard up to this point for.
But I feel alone. And very scared.
I remember high school. I remember the crowds, the expectations, the sheer size of it. I remember the stress, the pressure, the responsibility.
All of that terrifies me. It terrifies me for my son.
Will he be able to handle it? Will he blossom into the adult that I hope is in there? Will he finally find like-minded people to befriend? Will our phone begin to ring with offers of movies at the theatre, “grabbing a bite to eat”, or to just simply to come over and hang out?
Will he find his niche?
Or, will it implode spectacularly?
Have I expected too much?
I don’t think I have. I hope I haven’t.
But today I don’t have time to dwell on this. Today I have to help him get ready.
Because tomorrow my son walks across his second of three stages. He’ll shake the hands of the people who for the past three years have helped him get to that very stage he will be walking across. The people we will be saying goodbye to. The people who I am eternally grateful for their help and support. Because it could have gone a completely different direction.
For some students, it has. But not my son. He’s still hanging in there.
…and for that there is simply not enough thanks in the world.
Shash is finishing up another year of shaping young minds (besides her own children). Click over to Diary of a Crazed Mommy to read more about her life and her amazing family.