A Tearful Graduation Ceremony

Tear ducts broken.

On March 14th, we celebrated my second son's graduation ceremony.

I had experienced with my eldest son that the final year of kindergarten passes in the blink of an eye, but with my second son, it felt like it passed in the blink of an eye.

Oh, I knew I would cry,
but I was crying the whole time.

My eldest son also attended the graduation ceremony.
While waiting in the hall for the graduating children to arrive, I remembered the days I spent here with my eldest son.
That was two years ago already.

We went through a lot,
and we overcame many things together.

The refusal to go to school that started suddenly when he was in the middle class.
Accompanying him to school.
That day I cried at the cheerful singing voices of the children coming from the classroom where my eldest son wasn't.
During school hours, I waited for my eldest son in the library the whole time. I ate my lunch alone there.
My heart ached watching my eldest son, unable to enter the classroom, put his desk in the hallway and draw pictures.

My eldest son, who was always looking for bugs in the schoolyard.
My eldest son, who spent his time on the principal's lap.

He wouldn't let go of my hand, and he just couldn't cross the boundary between the hallway and the classroom. Inside the classroom, the children were playing happily together.
I thought, 'That looks nice.'
Like everyone else, like everyone else, my eldest son too.
But
my eldest son wouldn't let go of my hand.

When we finally got home, he would cling to me, saying, 'Let's play together.' I brushed my eldest son's hand away and slammed the kindergarten bag I was holding onto the ground. I went into the house, leaving my surprised eldest son behind. When my eldest son followed me, I said, 'Don't follow me,' and slammed the bedroom door shut. My eldest son cried and knocked on the door, saying, 'Open it, open it.' I covered my ears and screamed.

He couldn't ride the school bus anymore, so I took him to and from kindergarten by bicycle, rain or shine.
My second son entered the school, and since he said he could ride the bus if I was waiting at the kindergarten, I would see the bus off, then ride my bicycle ahead to the kindergarten to meet the bus my eldest son was on.
I met the bus like that until he graduated, and I hugged my eldest son when he arrived.

Sweet potato digging and field trips were also a struggle with him crying and crying.
At sports day, he was just picking up acorns the whole time.
During the relay race, he was crying on the teacher's lap inside the track.
At the play recital, he watched with me from the audience seats.

The graduation ceremony was...

Just then, the children arrived in the hall.
My second son entered the room, lining up properly in the row, even though he was nervous.
He's become a big boy now.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
My eldest son glanced at me.

The ceremony began.
The children sang the school song.

My tear ducts were broken already.
I took a handkerchief out of my bag and wiped away my tears.
Oh, it's ending.
He's graduating.

I held my eldest son's hand.
His hand was very warm and gentle.

Awarding of the graduation certificates.

My second son had been practicing receiving his certificate at home every day.
When I called his name,'Yes!' he would answer, and when I pretended to hand him the certificate saying, 'Congratulations,''Thank you very much,' he would say as he received the certificate, but he would get carried away and mess around. I think, 'That's just like him.'

Will my second son be able to do it just like in practice?
As the ceremony took place right before my eyes, I found myself remembering my eldest son's graduation ceremony.

That day, although he managed to make it to the classroom, my eldest son's face was stiff and he wouldn't let go of me. The homeroom teacher came over and signaled, 'Mother, please go,' so I handed the teacher the uniform shorts he absolutely refused to wear, and left the classroom, trusting in the teacher and my son. I could hear my son crying from behind me. With my heart feeling like it was going to break, I went to the hall and sat down at the very end, late.
Even after sitting down, I kept wondering if that was the right thing to do. Wouldn't it have been fine if he hadn't been able to attend the ceremony? Had I made him feel sad at the very last moment? Such thoughts swirled around in my head.

The children entered the hall.

I looked for my eldest son.
Is my eldest son there?
Is my eldest son there?
Where is he, where is he?

My eldest son entered last, walking slowly while holding the teacher's hand and sobbing.
He was clutching a white tiger stuffed animal to his chest.

The moment I saw my eldest son, tears welled up.
My eldest son was wearing his uniform.
You did your best, you really did your best.
A mother from the same class sitting next to me rubbed my back.

As everyone went up to the stage one by one to receive their certificates, my eldest son held the teacher's hand and received his while sobbing. At that moment, the principal said something to him. I wonder what she said to him. I'm sure she said something warm.

I cried so much that I couldn't even see my eldest son.
My mask was already soaking wet.

After receiving his certificate, he regained his composure, and when he left the hall, he showed me a smile.
I still remember that moment vividly.

"Yes!"my second son replied. A slightly modest"Thank you very much"could also be heard. Even though he was nervous, my second son received his certificate wonderfully.

During my eldest son's graduation, I was still in the thick of it, and because I was so overwhelmed that we had made it to the graduation ceremony safely, I couldn't look back on everything. I think the reason I can remember those days so clearly now is that the time has finally come when I can look back.
This kindergarten really, truly took such good care of us. I have too much emotional attachment to it.
While holding my eldest son's hand, my heart was full.
My second son was in front of me, and my eldest son was in my memories.
My brain was very busy.

After the ceremony ended safely, my eldest son said to me, 'Mom, you were crying the whole time.'

Yes, yes, I was remembering you, my dear.

After the ceremony, there was a small thank-you party in the classroom.
When I was waiting for the children in the classroom, they came in grinning, hiding something behind their backs.

My second son also stood in front of me, saying 'hehehe' while hiding something behind his back.

I know, I know.
You're hiding it, but I know.
Because, you, last night in the bath...

'You know, I'm going to give Mom flowers at the graduation ceremony, but it's a secret~'

You said that, didn't you?
So, even if you try to hide it with that face, I know, I know.

Thank you for everythingthe children said in unison as they handed me tulips.

“Wow!!! Thank you!!” I said, accepting them as if I knew nothing.
My second son looked satisfied.

The homeroom teacher gave her final farewell while crying.
I glanced at my second son and saw him rubbing his eyes.
My second son was crying.
My second son is usually quite laid-back, so I felt happy and moved to see that such "emotions" had grown within him.

The children sang many songs for us.
Each time, tears welled up, and I truly realized that he was graduating from kindergarten.

The graduation ceremony and the thank-you party ended safely, and it was time to hand the letter to the principal.
When I went out to the schoolyard, the principal was taking pictures with various people.

For a moment, there was no one around.
Now is the time!

“Principal!”

The moment I made eye contact with the principal, tears overflowed.
I started crying suddenly.

“Principal, I wanted to express my gratitude, so I wrote you a letter.”

I handed it to her while crying.

“Oh my, thank you so much.”

Tears were welling up in the principal's eyes as well.
I wonder how many times I have cried in front of the principal like this.
Each time, she encouraged me by saying, “You are doing a great job as a mother.”
This kindergarten and the principal were also my emotional support.
I still had opportunities to come to the kindergarten because my second son was still there, but now he is graduating too.

I feel lonely.

I remember.
Before going to his classroom every morning, my eldest son would always stop by the principal's office.

“My guardian teacher is here today too, right?”

Even though he knew she was there, he would ask every morning.

“I am here. It's going to be okay.”

The principal would hold my eldest son's hand with both of hers to reassure him.
Even now that he is an elementary school student, when he visits the kindergarten, she holds his hand with both of hers, says gently, “It's going to be okay,” and gives him a big hug.
I want my eldest son to never forget this warmth, even when he becomes an adult.
Even if he doesn't understand it now, I hope he never forgets that there were people who continued to accept him for who he is.

My eldest son and I cried so, so much.
I cried so much that I think the number of times I cried might have been more than anything else.
Even so, there were definitely smiles ahead.
There were definitely happy moments, too.

Above all, the days when she never denied my eldest son and kept accepting him, saying, “It's okay to be yourself,” are my irreplaceable treasure.

The reason my eldest son can now express, “I am who I am,” is because he has that treasure as an amulet in his heart.

I am glad I chose this kindergarten.
I am glad we were able to spend our time at this kindergarten.

Before I knew it, my eldest son, who had been playing with my second son in the schoolyard, came over and hugged the principal.
The principal hugged him back tightly. Then, while holding his hand with both of hers as she always did, she said gently, “You can come here anytime. Come visit whenever you like.”
The principal's gentle gaze is as full of love now as it was back then.
My eldest son nodded slightly, let go of her hand, and ran off to the schoolyard where my second son was playing.

I bowed to the principal with a smile.
The principal wiped the corners of her eyes with her fingers and saw us off with a smile.

Thank you so much, Principal.
I want to express my gratitude, though those words aren't enough.
I will bring my sons to visit again.
I hope that when we do, we can talk with smiles on our faces.

"This is the 'Farewell Song' we're singing at the graduation ceremony. It's a secret."

My second son, who spills all the secrets.
He kept calling the principal 'the lady with the curly hair' until the very end.
Congratulations on your graduation.
You really enjoyed your kindergarten life to the fullest.
You never let your older brother influence you, and you always said 'okay' to everything, which really, truly helped me out.
Thank you.
Enjoy your elementary school life to the fullest, too.