The Longest Shortest Year


As I see the photos of 2022 high school graduates, I salute them. It’s been a marathon and they just crossed the finish line. Congratulations, they deserve to celebrate.


Way back in time, I remember being an exceedingly envious high school junior as I watched my older friends march up and get their diploma. I wished it could be me. I was already dreading another whole year of school. I knew it would be the longest year of my life. And it was.


My senior year was so busy I didn’t stop to consider it would be my final year on campus.


My routine now included filling out college applications, and writing essays for every scholarship I could find. 


I learned how to answer the biggest, seemingly most critical question—“What are you doing after you graduate?” 


In between the regular classwork, I visited some colleges, and realized school wasn’t going to get any easier. 



I barely took notice of my final prom—or spirit week, or any other memorable high school event. I still had my after-school job, and I crammed in as many volunteer service jobs as possible. It looked good on scholarship applications, so they said.



Then, in what had been the hardest and longest year of my life, it had also become the shortest. Suddenly, I  was the one being handed my diploma. Graduation was held outside on the school’s football field. It was windy and my hair covered my face—but I was smiling—not because I was at the end, but because it was the beginning of a whole new chapter. For seniors that’s simultaneously exciting and daunting.


So, for the juniors out there—this next school year will be the longest and shortest year of your life. Remember it as much as you can….it’s the final lap. Let it be a sweet ending.


And for the rest of us? The one thing we learn as we get older is that the years seemingly get shorter. Why is that so? When life is busy and full, time escapes. The best way to capture it is to stop momentarily each day and thank God you’re here, and enjoy the journey. 





Popular posts from this blog

Dreaming the Dream

Image
Dreaming big dreams about the future is easy for kids. The only thing standing in the way is time.  Kid’s dreams are not about skills, or opportunities, or even practicality. Those things come much later.  My grandson hopes to be professional soccer player when he grows up. This week, a small piece of his dream came true when his Boys and Girls Club was invited to participate in pre-game activities with the Seattle Sounders Football Club.  He got to suit up in a real jersey and walk on the field with a real pro player. Imagine a young soccer player looking up to who he hopes to be one day. If you haven’t taken the time to talk to a child about their future dreams—you should.  They believe. As we get older we sometimes forget that dreams fuel our hopes—and that's something we all need. So, do you still dream? Or have you left those childhood thoughts behind?  S pending time with children will  inspire you to believe agai
Read more

Wild or Tame? Which One Are You?

Image
Finally! Research that explains why I act the way I do. Columbia University’s Motivational Science Center studied people’s activities and what brought them the most happiness. Even more telling were how those activities changed as they aged. Twenty-somethings tend to equate happiness with high-energy activities. Words like excited and ecstatic are usually attached to spontaneous things—even risky things—and living life full throttle.  Researchers labeled this Promotion Motivation —the urge to take chances, including career moves that may not work out. Happiness comes from happenings—the more happenings, the more happiness. By age forty, adults associate happiness with things running smoothly at work and home. It’s also about feeling secure in relationships. Keeping healthy matters more too. This behavior is called Prevention Motivation —and people are more concerned with preserving and maintaining the things they value. It appears that time ofte
Read more

The Quiet Dad

Image
After my granddaughter’s gymnastics, she’d always ask to go to the park next door—even in the winter. When you’re a high energy child, cold is relative. Our routine seemed to overlap with a dad and his son. I’d watch them as I watched my granddaughter go through her favorite activities—crossbar, swings, spinner, and the curly slide.  But the dad was not doing the same. He’d go hand-in-hand with his boy—pointing to trees, clouds, and the texture of the grass. I could see they were in a different place—one of sights, smells, and feels.   His son didn’t speak, so the father spoke into the silence around them. Since it was winter, the park was quiet—just the four of us—an energetic girl, and a boy who experienced the park in a way I never had.   We were at the same place, but in different worlds.    I saw a father’s love for his son expressed in quiet words of exploration. Never once did his son use the swing or try the crossbars. His world was spent touching tree bark and looking a
Read more