Hello, everyone. I need to share something that’s weighed heavily on me for a long time. A few years ago, I graduated from school, a day I had worked so hard for and was incredibly proud of. I was excited to share this milestone with my family, especially my parents, who I thought had supported me throughout my journey. However, their absence that day has haunted me ever since.
The ceremony was buzzing with excitement: students in their caps and gowns, families cheering, and cameras flashing everywhere. As I sat among my classmates, waiting for my name to be called, I experienced a blend of nervousness and joy.
I was scanning the crowd for my mom and stepdad, convinced they were somewhere in the sea of faces, maybe just out of my line of sight. “They’re probably running late,” I kept telling myself. “Or maybe stuck in traffic. They’ll be here any minute.”
As names were called one by one, I kept glancing around, trying to spot them. Every time a door opened or someone moved in the audience, my heart would leap, but then sink again when it wasn’t them. I reassured myself over and over, thinking they couldn’t possibly miss this. It’s my graduation, for crying out loud.
Finally, it was my turn. I walked up to the stage, my heart pounding in my chest. I shook hands with the principal, took my diploma, and glanced out at the crowd again, hoping, praying to see my mom’s proud smile or my stepdad’s thumbs up.
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