Last night was my son's graduation. I was sitting in my seat, minding my own business and trying to focus on the endless trite cliche's being toted as advice from the pulpit from the eight valedictorians, four principles and other's who were added to the endless program. I had spent the day driving back from my mother's funeral, alone with three bored children who screamed and fought in the back seat most of the fourteen hour drive home. We had arrived just hours before but were there trying to listen.
So as I sat, somewhat frustrated with the program which was far longer than any other graduation I had ever attended and feeling exhausted from the long drive and residual grief of my mother's death and the dissolution of the estate which was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life, I noticed these three small boys wrestling beside me on the grass. They were about ten or eleven years old and making a lot of noise. The ceremony was held in front of the bleachers by the football field with chairs laid in rows on the ground. The PA system was difficult to hear and the children had totally ignored my evil eye so I started looking to their parents who were totally ignoring the situation.
When one of the boys kneed another in the privates, I had it and stood, planning to encourage them to sit with their families. As I approached them, they looked back at me with defiant stares and something inside of me cracked. Maybe it was the long car ride or my mother's funeral or just the fact that this was my son's graduation and they were selfishly ruining it but I pointed my finger at them and hissed with vehemence, "You boys make me sick with your disrespect. This is my son's graduation. How dare you ruin it? Go sit with your parents now!" One of the boys tried to delay and I stepped behind him ready to scoot him towards the chair of people but he sprinted to his parents in fear and I sat down as several people stared at me in shock. The rest of the ceremony continued without any children within the area misbehaving.
I sat back with my heart racing, surprised at my feelings. Perhaps the old ways of covering our windows and wearing black during a period of mourning isn't a bad idea. It certainly would not expose you to embarassing emotional outbreaks.