To prevent tears from spilling over while watching my daughter’s high school graduation. The head tilt is a subtle technique men have been steadily perfecting since the Neanderthal Age. Look for signs of it at the next especially sappy romantic comedy you see.
How does this jive with the previous post, “Can’t We Please Stop Celebrating High School Graduation?” That was written by my social critic self. It applies to all the other graduates, not the special, tall, slender, blonde one walking across the stage at St. Martin’s University tonight. The one for whom middle and high school presented lots of challenges. Girlfriends that ran hot and cold. Obsessive compulsive disorder. A dad afraid to cry. The one who has weathered those and other challenges amazingly well. The one who has come out the other side a beautiful, kind, sensitive young woman with a bright future.
I’ve been a rock lately because marriage is like nature—it requires homeostasis. I’ve had to compensate for My Betrothed who has been an emotional roller coaster with life changes beyond her control, in particular her parents getting older and her daughters becoming more independent. My blogging around those edges, as demonstrated here, only makes matters worse.
Even writing this is making me emotional. More specifically, grateful, for all too many to count blessings in my life—that my mom is hanging in there, that Betrothed has been such a great mother to both our daughters, that the pantry is full of food, and we’re mentally and physically well.
Despite inevitable changes, the inevitable passing of parents, the independence of our children, my own death, I’m looking forward to the future. It’s the cycle of life. Resistence is futile.
And yes Dear Wife, the graduate read and approved a draft of this. All she said was, “I’ll be looking for the head tilt tonight.”