Graduation Night

Tonight Molly graduates from Preschool. A class she's been in for actually a year and half, since she started in the KPrep class in the middle of last year when Drew was diagnosed.  Her teacher and that classroom have been a part of her life as long has cancer has.  And this week we close that chapter.  I can feel the significance of it.

I don't think I even fully grasp how much the consistency, her teachers, the staff, and her friends have done for us since we started.  As we were trying to figure out what we were going to do last year, since I couldn't be two places at once, a friend who works at the school went out of her way to squeeze Molly in the class.  And since then, Molly's really thrived, during what could have been a really difficult time in her life too.  I hated that I couldn't be with her everyday.  That we didn't get to finish our journey together with me at home with her full time before she started school.  But, really, each day she came back excited about the things she did, showing me her papers, and telling me all about her day, I know God was taking care of her, when I couldn't.  Through all the wonderful people at Pacelli.  Here she was last year, after checking out the class room right after Drew was diagnosed, and then her first day, and last year's graduation.

I can't tell you how many times kids from other classes going down the hall at pickup would ask Molly how she was doing, how Drew was feeling, and Molly would walk away and ask me, "How does that girl know my name?".  Because they know us here Molly, and are praying for our family.  They did fundraisers for us, prayed for us--made us a prayer chain that circled his room during transplants and his final week, and surrounded us with love each day.  Pacelli will always have a special place in my heart, for getting us through a season that was so hard, by taking such good care of Molly.  I have been asked to be the commencement speaker at their commencement ceremony in a couple weeks.  I was honored and quickly accepted.  I hope I can give back a little, by delivering a speech that is meaningful.  A BIG thank you to everyone who has been such a big part of our lives during this challenging time. 

But tonight I really hope to focus on Molly.  I can already see how easy it would be to sit and watch, and be filled with sorrow for what I will never watch Drew do.  To picture him up there singing and what his "what I want to be when I grow up" sign would say.  And then go even further and grieve that I won't ever see him all grown up in this life.  But I need to keep remembering that Drew was never suppose to be older than 2.  It's not that he wouldn't have been so cute at 5 graduating preschool in his cap and gown ( are you kidding?  He would have been the cutest!!), but there never was going to be a 5 year old Drew.  It's so hard keep that in mind, to push away the tempting thoughts.  Pray with me that I can do it anyway.

Because I want so much to make it about Molly.  How awful would it be to have your mom cry at every big event in your life because your brother isn't there?  I can't have it be about Drew.  And I guess at the first milestone, I am resolving to set the precedence.  It needs to be just as happy as it should be for her.  Or else cancer wins.  Drew won't experience this, but Molly surely will, with a fully present family, who can still smile.  After all, she so deserves it!  Seeing now all the adjustment she handled, all the weeks that her and dad did life together with work and daycare, while I was at the hospital with Drew.  She deserves this celebration of all she's accomplished.  How proud I am to have Molly as my daughter.  Tonight I want to show that by how I act.  Here's her this fall on her first day again.  I wonder what her "when I grow up I want to be" will say this year!

But that doesn't mean I'm not sad.  As hard as I work to have the right attitude, I am sad for what I thought I was going to get to see my TWO kids do.  And I feel like it would be a mistake to not acknowledge and grieve that.  So I'll cry my tears this morning.  With this precious time that is such a gift, I'll cry for myself.  For what I thought I would get to see my son do.  For a lifetime of events I'll face where I'll no doubt feel like this to some degree.  And for another part of our chapter of life with Drew coming to an end.  Never to be again.  And not just for schools, but for phases of life.  Next fall Molly will be in kindergarten.  The "finish line", or at least a major shift, for a stay at home mom.  A place I didn't think I'd reach for another few years.  What's next for me?  I wasn't done being a mom to little kids at home yet!   It's only been 4 months now, its still very raw at times. I think I'm sad for all of it this morning.

But I'll gather my strength, ask for it from Above, and pull it together, just like I did for Drew, but this time, for Molly.  Because she needs me to.  Last year at this concert, Josh was traveling so my mom was there with Drew and I.  And when the curtain opened and Drew found Molly in the group on stage, he pointed and said (loudly), "There's Molly!!!".   I'll just know that tonight, and for the rest of our lives, Drew gets a front row seat.  Will be with us in an even more intimate way than he "would have" been.  He'll always be a part of our big events, and through his example we'll choose to get past our pain, or heartache, to enjoy them with him.

A friend reminded me how Drew acted during Molly's birthday this year.  Never trying to steal her thunder, or blow out her candle himself, but watched with everyone else and smiled from ear to ear, singing, and clapping.  Coming over to her at the end, saying he loved her and giving her a kiss. I'm sure that's just how he'll look watching her tonight, and for the rest of her life.  Beaming with joy for HER, and wanting her to know how very much he loved her.  I should do nothing less.