My oldest daughter graduated from high school this past weekend.
Among a sea of well wishes for her, many people have been giving my husband and I a heartfelt “Congratulations!” as well.
At first, I didn’t understand it. She’s the one who did it. She’s the one who attended a packed high school of 2,200 students with 650 other kids in her class. She’s the one who took every exam, finished every project, and polished every essay. I was beaming with pride for her, and felt the tide of accolades should flow her way.
But watching her from my seat far above the ceremonies at commencement, it hit me: we did this. My husband and I, we made it through all these years with her. We guided her, steadied her, loved her, corrected her, and loved her some more, all to this point of her life. Yes, the achievement is hers, but it’s ours as well.
It suddenly made me feel closer to my daughter, to know our stories are so intertwined in this way. And it made me feel closer to my husband – we make a pretty great team. Which is a good thing, since it’s only “1 down” and “4 to go!”