Milestones

 I was sitting out front last evening, waiting for the family to arrive, anxious to see my grandson. As he exited the car and walked across the lane, I started to cry.

Fourteen years old, handsomely decked out in an attractive grey suit and tie, his shoes still shiny with newness, he was stopping by before the ceremony for his grade eight graduation. 

Grade eight. I can’t believe how much he’s grown into himself in these last few years. He has his own style, clothes and hairstyle, ready to face the dreaded grade nine in the fall. 

And he’s not the only one. Another grandchild, his cousin, is also graduating this week. Only a month’s difference in age, she is also heading for high school come September. And then there was one, the last grandchild who will enter grade eight.

With all the on again-off again lockdowns over the past few years I missed seeing my grandchildren make that inevitable leap from child to young adult. It seems as if they grew up while I wasn’t looking. 

Another graduation this week is my third granddaughter’s from high school.  She’s taking a year off to work before committing to a career and further education. Her cousin is a year behind her and will graduate next year.

Seven teenagers between the two households. Busy times, and busy schedules.  I remember them as babies, toddlers, youngsters. 

Just as they’ve grown up, I’ve grown old. Alas, both are inevitable.