sunflower fields

This week is graduation for my senior and a handful of my Digital Journalism students, and I am waxing emotional.

There are so many words and feelings welling up that I don't know which ones to tell you. I have my heart so full right now of anxiousness for my son to finish up his coursework on time. I have a heart full of pride that he is finally getting through this chapter of his life—it has been challenging. And this heart is overflowing with wanting things to slow down, so we can savor the success for awhile. 

My students. Oh there are some of them who have really taught me so much, and a few of them who I would be privileged to become their friends. There are memories of learning from and with my students that make it difficult to think about them not being in my class next year. It gets me a little teary actually. And I keep thinking about how I wish time could slow down a little with these seniors as well, so we can savor these final moments. 

As I contemplate the future for my son and students, I recall driving to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport in the backseat of my brother's car being amazed by the nearly endless fields of mammoth sunflowers. It was stunning. Such a radiant and glorious sight to see. I think what made it so memorable as well was how there were so many fields of them too. Not only were there so many flowers that they seemed to stretch on forever in a field, but more and more fields of sunflowers would come as we drove. It was cheerful and surprising. 

The radiance of the graduates is like those sunflowers. They are shining now, but the opportunities they will have to shine further will continue to pop up as they go along their paths. They will surprise us, and we will continually want to see how far they go with things. We will want to remember every success now and moving forward, so much so that we will eagerly watch the horizon until we can't. 

I will be watching for wonderful surprises from all of them.