Burning Beneath

It seems I haven’t written in a while, and honestly, I blame the sun.

We’ve been blessed with a long stretch of beautiful sunny days. Bright skies, warm sunshine, and somehow I just feed off of it. The sun makes me feel alive. It makes me want to be outside all the time. Of course, my body doesn’t always allow me to do everything I want anymore, but I do what I can, and every moment I spend enjoying it fills me with life.

June has always been my favorite month. It’s my birthday month. It’s the month when my flowers bloom, when the days are longer, and when I can enjoy those stretches of clear blue skies that seem to lift my spirit.

This year, June feels even more special.

Two of my four children are graduating. One is finishing Grade 8, and the other graduated from the Welding Techniques program at St. Clair College. To my surprise and immense pride, he graduated with Academic Honours.

He’s always been someone who prefers doing over studying. He loves working with his hands. Books were never really his thing, so seeing him walk across that stage and receive that recognition meant so much to me.

Getting there wasn’t easy. There were challenges during his studies, and there was even a point where he almost didn’t attend the graduation ceremony at all. I understood where he was coming from because I didn’t attend one of my own graduations either, although for very different reasons.

When I graduated with an engineering degree with honours back in 1997, I had my moment. My family was there cheering me on. But later, when it came time for another ceremony here in Windsor, I chose not to go. Life was busy. My children were young. I didn’t have family here to celebrate with me, and there was simply too much going on.

That’s why I kept telling my son that this graduation wasn’t really for him.

It was for me.

It was my chance to celebrate him and everything he has accomplished. My children are my greatest achievements. Every success they have, every milestone they reach, reflects years of guidance, support, encouragement, and love.

When they succeed, I get to quietly say, “That’s my son. That’s my hard work. That’s my guidance. That’s my support.”

My oldest son has always been the same way. He often dreads these moments beforehand, and I usually have to give him that extra push. Yet afterward, he’s always glad he did it. Watching him grow into the man I always hoped he would become fills me with pride.

The truth is, I am proud of all my children.

Each one is thriving in their own way.

When my youngest holds the door open for others without being asked, I feel proud.

When I attend parent-teacher meetings and hear that he is respectful, smart, and doing everything right, I feel proud.

Who wouldn’t want to hear that?

And in those moments, I get to say, “That’s my son.”

My children are not perfect, but they are perfect for me.

I will continue to guide them, support them, and help correct their path whenever needed. But I am not the driver of their lives. They are. I am simply the support behind them, helping them find their own way.

This is June.

This is the month when I feel most alive.

And this year, more than ever, it is the month where I get to see the greatest achievements of my life standing right in front of me.

My children.

For that, my heart is full.