a first graduation
We waited in front of the glass cafeteria doors with all of the other parents and grandparents, all of them well dressed, as if they were attending Sunday church services. Sam and I were not as well dressed, and I felt self-conscious. I had taken the day off work, as I always do on my kids’ last day of school, and I was dressed for a relaxed day around the house, in a t-shirt and cropped pants. I shifted uncomfortably in my sandals and checked the time on my phone.
The crowd was restless, small groupings of family members inching closer to the doors even though they would not open for another fifteen minutes, at 8 a.m. There were limited number of front row seats, and everyone wanted to claim them. Only the front rows would have unobstructed views of the stage. I took some deep breaths to calm myself, anticipating the rush that would come when the doors finally opened. There would be seat saving – not just one or two, but an entire row – and that always drives me crazy and makes me anxious.
