Well, it took some doing, but we finally secured a cap and gown.

Honestly, it’s been a struggle. Between Savannah’s nursing class and my general disinterest in any kind of notification that comes from the school, we didn’t order Savannah’s cap and gown when we were supposed to.

Par for the course these days.

If there are balls to be dropped, you can be certain I’m dropping them.

But, there is an official cap and gown hanging in the closet, and tonight we even picked up her tassel with a shiny silver ‘19 hanging from the top.

Not a moment too soon. Graduation is tomorrow.

I have wondered if my reticence about preparing for the actual event tomorrow is indicative of my denial that we are here at all. At the end, I mean.

The other day Savannah was watching our old home movies. One of the movies showed her getting on the bus on her first day of school. Her bangs were tied back. She had a pink bow in her hair. She turned back to look at me as I told her I would be waiting right there for here at the end of the school day. She just nodded back at me and climbed the tall steps onto the bus, serious but determined.

I feel like I am right back there. Twelve years have passed and we are running the same scene. I’m off camera, in the background, reassuring and watching. But she is ready to go. She can’t wait to go. I will walk her as far as I can. But the next bit is hers alone.

Just don’t forget, I loved her first.

She used to call me “momma” with her raspy little voice. We used to lay with our heads together reading Little House on the Prairie and pouring over the American Girl catalog. And she was mine. For a moment. For a blink. For one long breath.

Tomorrow I will watch her climb another set of stairs that marks the start of her next adventure. She’s ready to go.

It’s time for me to wave and smile.

Ready or not.