The Balfour Envelope

As I previously mentioned, this is Michael's last semester of high school.  As a parent you know that eventually this day will come.  However, for someone who tends to arrive on the scene late (meaning I prefer to pretend that it's far enough in the future that I don't have to think about the idea of him leaving the nest) the reality of his imminent graduation day hit me this morning.  The Balfour envelope was staring at me from the island.  The island in my kitchen, not a remote island in the Bahamas.  It was a gentle reminder that this is the end of one journey and the beginning of another for Michael.

I couldn't be happier for Michael or more proud.  He has spent the better part of his high school career preparing for this.  He's worked extremely hard studying for the SAT and 3 AP subject tests, teaching himself Biology, acing that AP test, scoring a 5 as he did on the other two.  He has worked tirelessly on weekends, summer and winter breaks when his friends were off having fun.  Fortunately all the hard work has paid off for Michael.  Valedictorian of his senior class, National Merit Semi-Finalist and AP Scholar.  As corny as it sounds, he got here the old fashioned way: through hard work.

Michael, or Mikey as he will always be to me, has a May birthday.  When August rolled around after his 5th birthday we could have sent to kindergarten. We felt that he would be better off if we held him out a year to give him a little more time to mature.  It's a choice that we have been criticized for, but never regretted.  How could we?  He's never been anything but an A student, never letting absences from school interfere with his record.  One day feeling rather guilty about deciding to send him to kindergarten after his 6th birthday rather than his 5th, I asked him if he wanted to start school the next August.  In typical Mikey fashion he responded: "Not until the law forces me!"  So funny.  He had probably overhead me tell someone that the law required him to start kindergarten by the age of six.

Fast forward 2011.  Graduation announcements. In my heart he's still the sweet little boy I love, sitting in the same kindergarten classroom that his uncles and mother sat in many, many years before.  I can do this.

So I pick up the Balfour envelope and take a look.  It's pretty much standard fare.  Name cards, announcements, tassel, cap and gown.  It's all there, all that's left to do is to decide how much and to write a check.  Hey... It's not intimidating and it's really kind of exciting.  It's years in the making and the culmination of so much effort from Michael.  With this in mind I fill out the forms and write the check.  I'm excited now and not so sad anymore.

Congratulations Michael!  You deserve to announce and be proud of your accomplishments.  You are still the little boy I love, you just happen to be taller than me.