Each year, parents of our congregation's high-school seniors are asked to write a letter to their son or daughter and read it to the group at a spring banquet held in honor of the graduates. As you can imagine, this is an emotional task that many of us worried we would not be able to get through. Proclaiming what our children mean to us and offering them some final words of wisdom was worth the challenge, though. Heartfelt messages of love poured forth from every mom and dad in attendance. Here are the words I wanted to share with Carson.
Our
dear Carson,
As
we approach the milestone of your graduation—one that we have been simultaneously
preparing you for and dreading, often in equal measure—we reflect on the many transitions
we have experienced together.
The
day of your birth was one of the most blessed days of our lives. Within your
tiny, perfect form, you held all of our love, hopes and dreams. One look into
your sapphire-blue eyes, and we were smitten.
Watching
you grow has been our privilege and joy. From taking your first steps at nine
months to stepping into a school bus at six, onto the wrestling mat in middle
school, and into the spotlight of the stage in high school, you have always
amazed us with your talent. If ever you doubt your abilities, know that we who
have watched you from the beginning see no limits for what you can accomplish.
At
this moment of transition, a special memory comes to mind. You were about five
months old, and every day was full of joyful discoveries. You observed your
surroundings keenly, and the intensity of your experience heightened our own
senses. Tasting the sweet indulgence of a creamy chocolate milkshake, touching
the soft fur of a puppy, listening to the soft creaking of the rocking chair as
you reluctantly succumbed to sleep—every moment seemed extraordinary
encountered with someone so new to the world.
One
day, we ventured out for a walk around our neighborhood. The sun was shining in
Kentucky, where we lived at the time, but the mild climate kept temperatures blissfully
comfortable. A little while into our stroll, a soft breeze began to blow. The
rich green bluegrass began to dance, and tree branches nodded gracefully as the
gust caused the leaves to quiver and sway. You grimaced, closing your eyes and
wrinkling your nose as the gentle whisper tickled your face. As the breeze grew
stronger—lifting tufts of baby-fine blond hair and playfully caressing your
exposed arms and bare feet—a smile spread across your little face. As the wind
blew harder, you started bouncing in your seat. A giggle erupted, and from your
belly you began to laugh heartily. I laughed, too, experiencing your first
encounter with the wind. I will never forget the moment I watched you lean
forward in your stroller and stretch your arms wide, as if to embrace the
breeze. It was a moment of pure, unrestrained joy.
You
accepted that first breeze as a gift—fully experiencing it and appreciating it
as if God Himself had blown a breath of love for your pleasure. As you approach
graduation, I encourage you to savor the feeling of fresh air on your face. Be
present. Cherish each moment as a gift from heaven to be unwrapped.
As
you prepare to step into the future that God has planned for you, know that
your earthly family and heavenly Father adore you. We will always be here for
you, offering our love, support and guidance as you stretch your arms wide,
catch the next breeze, and fly.
Love,
Mom
and Dad
This is one of Carson's senior portraits, taken by my talented friend, photographer Allison Hilyer.
