My eldest finished high school this week, including the traditional march across the stage, and I’ve got all the feels. When you have a baby, they warn you of sleepless nights and dirty diapers. But they don’t mention that there comes a moment when you have to applaud the fact that your baby is no longer your baby.
We don’t follow many traditions in our home, and I can’t recall buying flowers, well, ever, but to mark this occasion, I grabbed some tulips and mini-carnations when I was in the store. I found one of my mother’s pottery pieces and, as you do, began to estimate where I should cut the stems before placing them in the tiny pitchers. I hesitated about cutting them, knowing that it would shorten how long the flowers might last. I reminded myself that these are cut flowers, meant to fill a space with light and joy for the moment, not forever.