The author has raised her four children through high school and college.
Courtesy of Jennifer Young
In 2005, my oldest son stood at the living room window and watched the big yellow school bus rumble past."Mommy, when do I get to ride the yellow bus?" he asked, his voice full of something I can only describe as pure forward motion. He could not wait to begin.That was the start of nearly 20 years of firsts. And this June, I'm counting down to the last of the lasts.I've watched all my children graduate from high schoolOur four children graduated every two years like clockwork, beginning in 2020— the year the world shut down and my son's senior spring dissolved into lockdowns, canceled proms, and a postponed graduation split into four sessions, sitting six feet apart.Two years ago, our third child crossed the stage. This spring, our oldest daughter finished college. And in a few weeks, our baby will receive her high school diploma.Before she does, there is a whole season of lasts still ahead of us: prom, the senior boat cruise, the yearbook signing party. Each one is a milestone I have been looking forward to and dreading in equal measure.I've long been celebrating firstsFor 20 years, I celebrated the firsts without fully understanding they were finite: first steps, first days, first friendships, first heartbreaks, first acceptances. They arrived one after another, and I met each one with my whole heart.
