Graduation

There are moments in life that feel like quiet turning points—days that don’t just mark an ending, but gently open the door to who you are becoming. My high school graduation was one of those days, and when I look back, what stands out most is not the cap or the gown or even the diploma in my hand—but the presence of Grandma and Grandpa Garber.

They didn’t come from a world of formal education. Grandma, with her eighth-grade schooling, carried a kind of wisdom you couldn’t learn in a classroom. She never had a driver’s license, her world shaped by the rhythms of farm life—early mornings, hard work, and a deep understanding of responsibility and resilience. Grandpa, steady and quiet, lived those same values. Together, they built a life rooted in simplicity, sacrifice, and love.

And yet, they believed in something bigger for me.

They believed in education—not because they had experienced it themselves, but because they understood what it could make possible. They encouraged me in ways that were never loud or forceful, but constant and steady. “Be kind,” Grandma would say. “Make a difference where you can.” It wasn’t just about getting good grades; it was about becoming someone who mattered in the lives of others.

Seeing them there at my graduation meant everything. It felt like my achievement was theirs too—a bridge between generations, between what was and what could be. In many ways, that moment became part of the foundation of my journey, much like the themes I later reflected on in Angel on a Bridge—how the people who shape us often do so quietly, guiding us across unseen crossings in our lives.

Now, as my son stands just weeks away from his own graduation, I feel that same sense of reflection rising again. Time folds in on itself in the most tender way. I think about how important it is for his grandpa to be there, to witness this milestone—not just as a ceremony, but as a continuation of something much deeper. A legacy. A story still being written.

And I can’t help but think about how proud his grandma would be.

Proud not only of what he has accomplished, but of who he is becoming. Proud that the values she lived—kindness, perseverance, humility—are still moving forward through another generation. Proud that her quiet encouragement all those years ago continues to ripple outward in ways she may have never imagined.

Graduation is never just about one person. It is about every hand that guided, every voice that encouraged, every sacrifice made along the way. It is about bridges—those visible and invisible—that carry us from one chapter to the next.

And as I prepare to watch my son cross that stage, I will be thinking of them—Grandma and Grandpa Garber—grateful for the bridge they built for me, and hopeful for the one he is now stepping onto.