The Last Graduation...

The Last Graduation…

A child has several graduations in their lifetime. My brother and I had a few from elementary school to junior high school, to high school, to college. That made eight graduations that my mother had to attend. But then I had the precious grandchildren she always prayed for, and soon they started graduating. My mother was much older by then, so attending graduations of any kind was no picnic. At one of my daughter’s graduation ceremonies from junior high school she lamented, “How the hell more graduations do we have to go to?” I couldn’t argue with her because graduations, while full of pomp and circumstance, pride and accomplishment, success and new beginnings, are really not much fun. And my children had even more graduations than I did, because now they start with pre-K ceremonies, Kindergarten Stepping Up, then elementary, junior high, high school and college. (Not to mention the five hour dance rehearsals that we had to endure for several years).

But this past Sunday, on Mother’s Day, my baby girl graduated from college with honors and a Bachelor of Science Degree majoring in Clinical Laboratory Science. Four long years of studying weekdays and every weekend and attending summer school are now over. I can only imagine what my mother would have had to say about this ceremony, after she would have told my daughter how much she loved her and how proud she was of her. I could almost hear her complaining from Heaven. Let me describe this ceremony and maybe you will hear my mother too! 

First of all, they make us arrive at 8 am for a ceremony that begins at 10 am, so the 3,000 graduates can be arranged in alphabetical order and begin marching out at 9:15 am. We took our seats on the “great lawn” and waited. The sun was not supposed to come out, but it did. The grass beneath our seats made my daughter and my brother’s allergies act up. The sun was getting uncomfortably warm and causing some of us to burn. My brother’s head soon looked like a ripe tomato from the neck up. And the ceremony hadn’t even started. I was getting very annoyed with the people in our row, who kept walking in and out of their seats and being very inconsiderate. My brother and I have my mother’s bad gene, so does my older daughter. I couldn’t help but think that if one of us said anything to these miserable people, the other two would join in and ruin my daughter’s graduation, as security would have had to haul us off the campus. We all tried to bite our tongues as we kept in mind that this was our “Last Graduation.” We had endured all the rest with some dignity and grace, and I couldn’t ruin the day my daughter worked so hard to get to. 

My mother’s bad gene makes one very irritable over the slightest things, especially when the sun is beating down on your head. The band had A LOT of time to kill while we waited, so they played some random songs. I guess they couldn’t find anything more appropriate with all the millions of songs out there. So I think I am hearing things when they start playing “Anchors Away.” I am having a WTH (what the hell) moment! What’s the use of complaining I keep telling myself. Just be quiet and this will all be over at 12:30 pm. Finally, at 10 am, as promised, and after 45 minutes of the song, “Pomp and Circumstance,” while the graduates marched to their seats, the ceremony begins. Speeches start. And, a nice little surprise for me! My old Speech professor that I had almost 40 years ago, was making a speech! Professor Greg was the nicest professor I had had and, as much as I dreaded Speech when I found out I had to take it, he made it the most fun class of my college career. The speeches all ended about 11 am. The keynote speaker was the head coach of the basketball team. He talked more about himself than he did about the graduates. It was very disappointing. I guess they couldn’t get someone…anyone…more relevant. Not only did he talk about himself, he compared the graduation to being in the final four of a basketball playoffs. Ugh!

At 11 am they begin to call each and every graduate up to the stage for their “diplomas.” Every one of the three thousand names were called as they paraded rapidly across the stage. Actually, I was surprised and even thrilled at the fact that the ceremony was actually going to end when they promised. By 12 pm everyone was antsy and had had enough. We were sitting out there in the sun for 4 hours already. The graduates in an even worse situation because they had to wear their caps and gowns over their clothes. At 12:15 we decided to get out of the sun and go stand in the shade. People had been leaving, and graduates had been leaving, all while the ceremony was still in progress. The school had no control over the chaos. There were people everywhere. Each of the 3,000 graduates got five tickets for a potential of 15,000 guests. We tried to find a spot where we could tell our daughter to meet us. Eventually, by 12:30 she had found her way over to where we were standing. 

Trying to get off campus in a crowd that size was nearly impossible. At one point we had reached an impasse and were engulfed in a crowd that wasn’t moving. We kept inching our way through every chance we got. Finally, there was a clearing ahead and we sprinted forward to an opening and we took it. Now we were headed towards the car which would take us home to the delicious tray of lasagna I had prepared the day before. There was no point making reservations to eat out. It was Mother’s Day and on top of that there were communions and graduations going on all over. I couldn’t be sure of the time we would be done. So I was smart. I decided we would eat at home this week and go out to celebrate next week. And, my husband picked up a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake for dessert!

The “Last Graduation!”  I know my mom would have been happy to hear those words. I also know that she would not have sat still that day. She would have had plenty to say, and in her nice outdoor voice too. The only thing that would have saved her from being thrown out would have been her advanced age. My mother would have been 96 years old. And after she got done complaining about the graduation, she would have started in on my lasagna, which could never be as good or better than hers. And then she would have started in on the lousy ice cream cake that they don’t know how to make and we don’t know how to pick out. That’s what was missing Sunday…my mom. She may not have been there physically, but she was there in spirit…a very loud spirit.

My Mother Never Wore Perfume...

My mother never wore perfume. Not in the fifty years or so that I shared with her did I ever smell a scent that came from a labeled bottle of any kind. My mother smelled of Camay and Ivory soaps, of Tide detergent and Palmolive dish cleaner. Those scents, combined with her own natural scent, made for the sweetest combination of fragrances ever, exceeded only by the smell of my own new born baby girls. 

I can’t recall the first time I was really very much aware of my mother’s scent. It could have been the time I was sick and she wrapped me in the warm, light blue sweater, she wore all the time. It was soft and warm and comforting and the smell of my mother lulled me into sleep. I realized that no one smelled like my mother. Many people can associate their mothers with a certain store bought fragrance. My aunt wore Channel No. 5 all the time. But, there was no bottle of perfume that would ever capture the scent my mother wore. I would have to memorize it, because there was no way to recreate it. When she passed away, her magical scent would go with her. 

My mother probably thought perfume was too expensive and a waste of money. Even if she liked a fragrance, she would never buy it. But, anytime I wore any type of perfume or eau de toilet, she would make a face and tell me how bad it smelled. She would even boast that she didn’t need perfume, she always smelled good…and she did.

As for make-up, I can remember about a half dozen times she wore it for very special occasions. Other than that, she never wore make-up. She really didn’t need it, her skin was always soft and youthful looking. People never thought she was as old as she was because she didn’t show her age. She aged gracefully. The mischievous gleam in her eye and her smile were infectious. Her bigger than life personality captured everyone’s attention and won over their hearts. She didn’t need perfume or make-up. She was 100% all natural.

It’s sad that I’ll never be able to smell my mom again. It sounds crazy maybe. Sometimes I can close my eyes and imagine hugging her and I will get the slightest memory of it. Unlike my mother, I have use different, lightly scented perfumes over the years. I have finally settled on French lavender scents. I use just a little. I want my girls to be able to have a scent to remember that they can associate with me. And if, after I’m gone, they forget the memory of what it was I smelled like, they can spray a little lavender in the air and remember and maybe even be comforted by it.