Funeral for a Friend

I watched Michael, this morning, put on the suit he wears to funerals and weddings. It's a Tuesday, so this is not for a wedding, it is indeed for a funeral for a friend. He is going to work first, and then on out to a place where he and all of our friends from his department will lay to rest one of their own.
We have two families. Our first family is the blood relatives we keep, mostly back in Ohio. The second family are the people he works with. The company Michael is employed by has always provided our deep friendships and secondary family. When we lived back in Ohio it was the same as it is here. We hung out with his co-workers, celebrated big life accomplishments, attended weddings, and spent holiday parties together. Michael has worked for this company for over 26 years, more than half his life, so it only makes sense that we are our own "band of brothers". Much like a fraternal organization, we are a tight group who watches after each other.
Today, they go off and bury one of their own. Their co-worker and friend, a cherished member of the family died with the "brothers" while on an outing. Suddenly, devastatingly, he fell, had a heart attack and never recovered. Surrounded by his friends, he was taken care of until it was time to let him go. He was only 46.
My dearest friends are heartbroken these days. First it was because the company came up, flatly announced that the band was being broken up, into little fragmented pieces, by shipping whoever was left, to another city 1200 miles away from our current homes. With very little consideration to the personal destruction the move would cause in every family involved, the group was then left to wait for any details, which so far have not come. This has the potential to go on for two more years.
Last week, the sudden death of a much loved friend has left the group, who is normally happy, always ready to help and forever making each other laugh, bereft and feeling as though they have been forever altered.
I kissed Michael goodbye this morning, reminded how fortunate I am for every day he is in my life. I watched him walk out of our tiny apartment with slumped shoulders and new lines across his face. He almost never complains. He almost never feels sorry for himself. He faces things like this with the same grace he faces every other big life changing event. He is a quiet man. I realize that others think he is quiet in order to maintain balance, since I am most definitely not. The truth is, he has always been a quiet man. My heart beats for him now. I have prayed for our second family a thousand time since things became turbulent, continuing to pray for them every day, especially now.
I am selfish when it comes to our friends from his office. I adore them. I want us to be together until it is time for him to retire. And even then, I want to spend our golden years enjoying the friendships we have all cherished.
My heart goes out to my fiends today. May God bless them in unexpected ways and allow them to be happy again very soon.

It Could Happen to Anyone, and Frequently Does

I have a past. No kidding...everybody does. My past regrets have more to do with what I didn't do, than what I did. I live everyday with scars from a relationship where I got physically and mentally battered for years. It doesn't matter who the guy was now. What matters is that I allowed it to continue because of my own lack of self worth. So it's my fault then? NO! I got caught up in a situation I had no idea how to handle, add to that the incredible amount of fear and what I ended up with was me, stuck, too afraid to leave, too insecure to think I deserved better and staying because leaving seemed too difficult. Domestic violence situations are sticky. When love and emotional ties are mingled with violence, the clear cut answers we swear we have when we are young go right out the window. The other issue is the embarrassment we feel at having been victimized. I thought I was too smart to allow someone to hurt me. I thought that only happened to other people. I thought I was strong enough to level anybody who laid their hands on me. What I didn't count on was the emotional bullying, the idea that I would caught in a struggle of forgiveness and repeat offending. The apologies would begin right away, only moments after I would find myself on the floor, bleeding, bruised form head to toe from being tossed around like a rag doll. "I swear I don't know my own strength sometimes. It's just that YOU make me so mad. If you would only be quiet and not talk to me when I am like this. I'm sorry, it will never happen again." And it wouldn't, until it did.
My life was wrapped up in this person. Tearing myself away wasn't going to be easy, or simple. My situation was going to be a full blown mess. When I finally did leave, that is exactly what it was, a full blown mess, that lasted for another several years. I had protected this man from others finding out the truth. I wore long sleeves in 80 degree heat to cover the bruises or tell others I was clumsy. I lied for this man who beat the snot out of me for anything he didn't like. I stood up for him against family and friends , who dared to question my judgment when it came to him. He would then blame me for all of his problems and promptly punish me for them. I never knew when it was coming. We would go months, be in love, be happy and then the bottom would fall out again. I found myself hiding from him when he drank. I found myself getting quieter and quieter, trying desperately to disappear within myself. I found myself wishing I were dead so all of the pain would stop. Bruises healed, but the verbal abuse stayed with me all day, every day. "You are a fat, stupid, worthless piece of sh*t! No one wants you. I took pity on you, you ungrateful B*tch!" Those words would play in my head on a continuous loop. I was completely forgiving of him, and completely unforgiving of me. "Maybe if I were thinner, prettier, quieter, smarter, worked harder, then maybe just maybe, he would not hate me so much. And if I could get better and better, not sleep so much, never leave the house and wait on him hand and foot, he would actually love me." Those were the lies I would tell myself, in order to live through another day. By the end of things, I believed every horrible thing he ever said about me. I was as certain as he was, that I was not worth the space I took up. I was unworthy of the oxygen I used to stay alive. It didn't take long before both of us wanted me dead.
To this day whenever somebody scares me, by jumping out of nowhere, in innocent fun, mind you, I fall to the ground and sob. There will be no haunted houses in my future until this stops. The sick games played at my expense, where I had to hide in order to protect myself are the ghosts that live with me. I have the deeply embedded scars of someone who got seriously hurt by someone who was supposed to love them. I had to sit down with my husband and tell him what happened to me. I had to be honest, because not everything has gone away. For the most part, time has healed most of my wounds. The love of a good man brought me back to the land of the living. Every once in a while, something triggers that feeling of desperation and I am back in that horrific place where I thought I wouldn't survive. Every once in a while, I confess to Michael how needy and scared I am, because of things in the past that haunt me, still. I am honest about all of it, because once I was out, I swore to myself, I would do whatever it took, to get ME back.
I no longer blame me for not being "enough". I no longer blame me for being so stupid because I put up with it. I learned my lessons, but I survived long enough to be able to do that. Not every woman is so lucky. Not every person, men, too, get the chance to heal the wounds, and learn to love again without fear.
My past doesn't define who I am, but it certainly drives me to be better and stand up for what I believe. My ghosts are there as a reminder to keep a watchful eye out for others who are need of help, guidance or shelter. When I talk about this part of my past, I still cry, as I tell the story. I cry for the young woman who was too terrified to seek help. I cry for all the wasted time spent loving someone who couldn't possibly love me back. I cry for every bad thing I ever believed that wasn't true. I cry now because I didn't cry for years when it was going on. I wasn't allowed to cry or I would get punished more, harder, and longer. I went for a life time keeping my tears on the inside so I wouldn't make things worse, as if that was possible.
Michael lets me cry whenever I want. He tenderly holds me and allows me to feel anything that my mind can conjure. He allows me to be silly, funny, angry, weepy, needy, loving, hateful, and sometimes disgusting. Because these are all things that are real to every one of us. Michael doesn't love me in spite of who I am, but because of who I am. I am safe with this man. My heart feels it deeply everyday, the security I had longed for and stopped believing existed, exists with him.
My story is not unique. My past is not jaw dropping or shocking. Domestic violence happens every day, to all kinds of people, in every walk of life. If you see someone in your life who is trapped, try your level best to get them help, even if it means calling the police as an anonymous tip. Your singular action could help them find the courage to get out.

Dearest Friend

Anybody who knows me for more than five minutes knows about my wild love for my brother from a different mother. He is my very dearest and oldest friend. Jim, has been my very best friend for many decades now. We have been friends since I was nine years old. I am 47 now, so you do the math. The very first time we spent the day together we did absurd things and laughed at each other. We let our imaginations soar and the games in our head became reality. I remember that day the way I remember the day my kids were born. It really was that important to me.
I am close to his mother, loving her for bringing me the person I first connected in a "chosen to be with me always" way. When I go north and visit, she is always on my list of people to see. We laugh and tell stories of her children and mine. We hug in the bond of love we share for her son. There isn't enough time on earth for me to thank her for producing this brilliant, charming, funny man, whom I have spent much of my life adoring.
Jim and I haven't lived in the same town since we were 18 years old, yet we talk several times a month and send each other letters or funny cards, always mindful that we are lucky to have any relationship last this long. He is single and travels the world, while I am married and raising kids. We are polar opposites in the way our lives turned out. He had no desire to have children of his own, but teaches several hundred children a year as a high school teacher. I have four of my own kids and would rather be beaten with a stick than try and teach anybody's kids to do anything. One of the things we have in common is the tremendous respect we have for each others choices.
I am different around Jim. I forget that I am aging and my body doesn't resemble, even the slightest, what it did when I was nine. I am exuberant around him and dance in his living room as he tells me wild stories of his latest adventure. I sit and listen intently as he whispers the triumph and tragedy of what has transpired in his life. I am riveted by this man, and always have been.
When we were in high school, we were asked if we were going to get married. We would look at each other completely puzzled at the inquiry. Years later we would understand why folks would think we would be together always, but we always knew it would be in so much a different way than any conventional idea anybody else had. As much as we got along and loved each other's company, we were not each other's type. We did go on a singular date to see what people were talking about when they would tell us we were perfect for each other. We went and saw "An Officer and a Gentleman" with Richard Geer and then off to the neighborhood pizza joint for dinner. The evening should have been really romantic. Let's face it, if a couple can't pull romance out of that scenario they are brother and sister. So there it was. We were not a couple, we were family.
Jim is not a web kinda guy. He rarely emails, never gets on social sites and would rather be tortured than cyber chat. He calls when he can, and we see each other when I travel up to see my own parents. I am totally hooked up to the web because of the book. i am grateful to be re-connected with my friends and access information in the blink of an eye. I have a great appreciation for FB, Myspace and other sources where I can contact my kids when I need to since they are scattered to the wind, most days. If I want to know what goes on in their world, I need to check their statuses.
I had wished Jim were more accessible to me. I am definitely into instant gratification, so the idea of having him online was really appealing. "Oh, girl, I cannot!" Jim looked at me as if I had asked him for one of his vital organs. I instantly understood that he hated the idea and would not be participating. Enough said. I have not asked again since that fateful moment when I was certain he would never. I guess I understand why. He is surrounded by high school kids all year who are hyper connected. The last thing he probably wants is more exposure. Jim is a somewhat quiet, and somewhat reserved at home. He relishes his peace and quiet, reading multiple books at one time, rarely watching TV or listening to music. When staying at his house, the silence at first is deafening for me, since I am used to barking dogs, meowing cats, driving stereos and competing TVs. After the first day, I get used to the quiet and start my growing appreciation for all things peaceful. I learned what life is like when there are no electronics on in a house. I retrained my brain to live temporarily without the constant buzz of voices all around spouting a thousand different facts and opinions in a single afternoon.
When I am with Jim, I live as he lives. We eat out or cook in his kitchen, drink wine, talk books, laugh at silly jokes, sit in coffee shops and read to each other. We play games in book stores using the titles as playful weapons at each other. I live simply, delectably, when I am his guest.
I found a page on facebook today where his previous students can go and pay their respects to one of the most loved teachers they have ever had. I sat stunned and smiling as I saw pictures of my dear friend and his students. I saw where he has made his mark. I was able to bare witness to a part of his life I have never really known. It was a good day for me. I felt comfort in seeing his face. He is traveling again, as he does every summer, so I am cut off from talking with him. Soon he will be home, calling me telling me of his trip, laughing at what all went wrong and regaling stories of the people he met and the food he ate (my favorite part). I will tell him about the page where he is highlighted as a teacher celebrity by the students who love him so much, to which he wave away the comment and mumble, "such nonsense" under his breath. His humility will over rule any ego he may be tempted by. That is the great thing about Jim, he has no idea just how important he really is.

Happy Father's Day

It's Father's Day today and I was reflecting on how lucky I am when it comes to fathers. My own dad is a great guy I can laugh and joke with and have big conversations with. My Mom's dad, my grandpa Dennis, was a big teddy bear of a guy who loved me so much, I carry it with me still. My children's father, Danny, loved our kids like no one I had ever witnessed before. His only fear in life was not being around for his kids. He would do anything for them and proved it every day. And now they have Michael. Michael quietly goes about the business, of being a father to our kids, with little or no expectation of anything except the occasional hug. The kids have grown to love and appreciate him, as I do. Michael is a good man, who deeply loves his children. He speaks of how fortunate he is to have a family of his own. He respects the place Danny has in the kid's hearts and memories. The kids don't distinguish between the love of their father, Danny and the love they have from Michael. It is merely a continuation of what they have always known.
When it comes to fathers, yes, I have been really lucky or blessed or whatever you may want to qualify it as. The men in my life have shown me how to be strong, loyal, tough, and loving. They have taught us all that family comes first and honor and dignity are important. My men have shown me that my word is my bond and that I deserve the same respect I afford others.
Today we will celebrate Father's Day and let our guys know how very much we love them. It's the least we can do for the men who have given so much.

The Long Way Home

It seems like a lifetime ago Mike and I decided it was time to give up our big beautiful house, renovate it back to it's former glory, and move on to a different kind of life. So much has happened, much of it unfortunate since we made that decision back last August. I have had to come to terms with the changes to my personal being of having children grow up, losing jobs and having my body give out in ways I never considered. So much letting go in all of this. I have always maintained that I am not my house or job or even my physical body. I am who I am because of the soul that exists within me. Even my beating heart does not define me. Long after this body gives way, I will still exist in the hearts and memories of those I love.
We have suffered growing pains during this time that prevented me from writing positive, uplifting things in this blog. I am , after all, merely human. I have shed tears of pain and frustration at the unfairness that has come to Mike and I during the last year. I felt deeply, that although this has been very uncomfortable, that somewhere along the line, there are better things that await us. I have never lost faith, but it has certainly been tested. I think that is where the real strength of faith lies, in the trials we endure to grow into ourselves.
We were packing up the few remaining items out of the house, and all I could think of was, I want to go "home", where my children, pets and stuff are. The house no longer felt like my home; it just felt like being in some house I no longer felt tied to. The last day, Mike and I peered into the windows, as if we were outsiders looking in, which in truth, we were. The house belongs to a new family now. There are sounds of young children and babies in the house. They are swimming in the pool, swinging on the tree swing that Mike had built for one of my birthdays, laughing and giddy at the prospect of making the house their new home. We said our good-byes to the house, we moved so far from where we came from and went back to the apartment that welcomed us with a ceiling collapse due to flooding from the washing machine above. Boxes are our new furniture and the place is packed with our belongings that have no home. It isn't really depressing, in fact in some ways it represents the relief we feel from releasing our hold on our stuff and big over sized house that no longer suited us.
On our anniversary we signed the remaining papers and gave the new owners our keys, assuring them they had the best neighbors in the world. I think for me that was the biggest sacrifice, giving away my neighbors, who I dearly love and would do anything for. I teased them saying since we were temporarily "homeless" we would rent their upstairs just to stay close to them. When we moved to Houston, we had nothing. Our stuff and my car were in transit and we didn't have a stick of furniture or a single appliance, except the stove. We had no idea what it would be like to live in Houston. We knew nothing of Texas except the single trip we had made to look at houses. We were as naive as babies. Six years seems like a lifetime now, looking back.
We recently found a house that is more suitable to Mike and my new lifestyle. At least two of the four children will be moving out, and our petting zoo will be reduced by at least one rabbit. We gave away furniture, placing it on the tree lawn for anyone who needed, or wanted it. I released some of the "treasures" from when my kids were babies in order to fit more easily into our new home, wherever that happens to be.
I'll be honest, I am not in a comfortable place. My life no longer resembles all that I used to be. It seems I am supposed to be different, changed, even transformed into something I am completely unfamiliar with. The things and children that dominated and defined my existence have moved on, and now it's time for me to move on, too. If I am no longer buying a house for the school system, or moving into a home that is close to my job, or even taking into account space for the kids to live in for years, then who am I? I do not have that answer. The answer I do have is that I am supposed to be Michael's wife first, for the first time in our married life. I feel relief in that, too. Although I have never lived this before, putting us first, ahead of kids, pets and homes, I will say I am up to the challenge. I have desperately missed my man-friend. He and I have been so busy renovating, selling and moving, taking care of kids and their stuff, we barely have seen each other. As we sat across from each other at dinner for our anniversary, we were exhausted, but happy just to be together. We felt so accomplished that our marriage had not only survived the move, but had grown stronger. We laughed because we couldn't remember the last time we had had a meal sitting across from each other that didn't include grocery listing things to fix or move, or problems to solve. I looked at my husband's face for a very long time. I appreciated every wrinkle of worry he has from taking care of us. I watched his expression over the week go from tired planning to complete relief after we signed away our home. He laughed at the table, smiling at me and I knew what I always have known, I would follow him anywhere.
We are making new plans, now. We have no clue what will happen to his job or if I will find a new occupation. We continue to guide the kids in their lives to be happy above all else. We walk the dogs, share coffee in the morning and sigh a lot. We made a new friend, here at the apartment complex. He came over for dinner and we shared food, stories, and laughter.
I have faith that we are in some way protected in our beliefs. I have faith that things will work out for the greater good, even though during all of this cars broke down, people failed to do what they said and the weather man assured us the hurricane season would be bad this year. The relentless heat, has me melting like an ice cream cone left on the sidewalk. The humidity is so thick it is as if we are breathing soup. And yet I feel relieved and happy, most days. This was never going to be easy, that much I have been sure of from day one. What I was certain of was that it was right. Much like a dog with a bone, I held fast to the my belief that if I hung on long enough the end results would be completely worth it. All I can say for now is, stay tuned...

Moving On...

For whatever reason, I am seeing all kinds of signs, but am truly confused as to what they mean. For instance, I saw an owl that I wrote about awhile back. I hadn't seen any owls for the 6 years we lived here and all of a sudden there one was staring directly at me. The other day I was driving to pick up my son, when on the side of the road there was another owl sitting on the ground. He looked directly at me as I drove past him. I thought it was really strange to see two of them so close together, but again, I have no idea what it all means.
I have had weird signs like that for months. If the signs are supposed to mean something, I am definitely not getting the message. For now, I tuck all the little inclinations to the back of my mind and wait for the answer to reveal itself. In the mean time, I am busy doing what needs to be done.
Jane Austin wrote, "Give me an occupation, or I shall go mad!" I understand that completely. As I spend my time packing up boxes, it began to dawn on me that my occupations great and small are coming to an end. I began to panic. I am no longer a mother to "children". I am no longer a nurse, a massage therapist or even a writer for now. All things are on the back burner until we get settled into our new digs. I don't even have a house to work on. Once the book was done, Michael and I decided to sell the house and I gave myself the occupation of renovating our space. Even that job is done and our new place is a rental I cannot change or fix.
I am prepared to do what I can do secure some type of occupation, but I freely admit that I am more than a little nervous. Being a nurse or whatever license I held at the time was easy. I would apply for jobs and they would slip into my fingers and off to work I would go. My "careers" were neither brilliant nor boring, they just were. I feel the shift internally. I am not feeling lost as I once did, but I know for certain I am not on a predestined road, either.
For now my job is to pack up our belongings and get ready to move. I am diligently working on wrapping things up in paper and bubble wrap, then tightly packing every box, carefully lifting with my legs, to check the weight of each one. Once we are securely in our apartment I will have the job of finding my next occupation. Many folks have asked Mike and I what we are going to do about his job, my job, finding a house, and on and on. We have no idea. We have come to accept that we are not supposed to know any answers today, tomorrow or even after that. Every day we wake up and face the immediate, doing what needs to done this day, this week, looking no further into the future, because we just don't know anything yet.
I am keeping my eyes open for anything might be telling on where we are headed. I like security as much as the next guy, but this is the first time in my life I am completely at a loss. Breathing is my only certainty, that and we have a roof over our heads, which we weren't sure we were going to have. I am grateful for our apartment and the opportunity to sit back and let things unfold. There have only been s very few times when I have had the opportunity of time. Maybe, that is in itself the sign. I can't remember the last time I didn't have a mortgage and yard to mow. Mike and I have dreamed of a time when we would be able to take bike rides, hike through trails and lay by a pool with no worries of house stuff and huge electric bills. This is what we have for now. We have been calling our apartment, our vacation cottage. We laugh at the idea when something breaks, we call the super and wait for him to bring his tool box, while we go off and do something else. It's weird to think that kids will be off living their respective lives, showing up for the occasional refrigerator raid and sleeping space. Our lives are all changing. People who once came regularly to the house are off and gone, having moved on. We are in a different space in our lives and taking our first steps, as if we were infants, trying to find our bearings.
It is exciting in a way, but we are no different from anyone who faces big change and are scared. It is normal to feel unsure and shaky. Once I am done packing up our stuff, it will be time to pack up our emotional baggage too, so that we don't let any unnecessary weight drag us down. The last thing I want to take with us on our new journey is an anchor.
I will not lie and say I have handled all of this change brilliantly and seamlessly. I haven't handled things well all the time at all. What I am learning to do is let go. I am prying my controlling fingers off our future one at a time. I have learned to breathe through things and not fall spectacularly apart. We bicker, we don't fight. We talk instead of argue and we take lots and lots of deep breaths. I at first thought it was ridiculous to be 47 years old in this position of not knowing anything. I had thought this was the time when I would feel settled and entrenched into my life. And then God laughed...I do think I would not have handled things better when I was younger. Maybe that is the very reason it is happening now, because I am mature enough not to completely panic and go off the deep end. That is one sign I am pretty sure I understand.
I don't know why I am seeing owls. I certainly don't feel wise in all of this, so that is a mystery I will have to wait to see the meaning. I think the bigger answer to any questions I have is I don't need all the information right now.
All I do need is a few pieces of comfortable seating, beds and my family. Oh, and an internet connection, so that I can continue to blog.

A Commencement Speech For the Class of 2010

One of the things I have always wanted to do was give a commencement speech. It's on my bucket list. I thought I could put all my lecturing skills that my children say I have to good use. There are things I want to say, feel passionately about and feel the need to share. I tease my oldest that when she graduates from college, I hope to be in a position to be her commencement speaker. She then gives me a look like I have three heads and says, "Don't you dare!" It makes me laugh when she thinks I may embarrass her. I really don't need a podium and a microphone to do that.
If I were to be honored enough to speak to the graduates, here is what I am yearning and burning to say:

Good afternoon graduates. I am honored and thrilled to be here. As I look out at the sea of faces before me, I notice something extraordinary. I am awe inspired by your presence here and your choice to work so hard to have this moment. In this moment, that will end in a blink of an eye, you have spent the last four years of your life diligently working towards your future and mine. You have actively made the choice to dedicate your life to the endeavor of pursuing and attaining your goals. So many of you, without conscious thought beyond your diploma, have already altered the world you live in simply by aspiring to be better, smarter and more accomplished, and for that I thank you. It is in this moment I want to talk to you about why I think you have already made the most brilliant decision of your life and how you will have long term effects on the world you live in that will inspire others for greatness also.
Today you share with your classmates the collective sigh of relief that this part of your journey is done. After exhausting hours of papers, classes and the endless lists of things that had to be completed, you have reached this finish line. Today is the day to celebrate each of your individual accomplishments and the accomplishments of your entire class as a whole. We, seasoned veterans, celebrate with you and do the dance of joy that you have chosen a life of higher education. It is a choice that you may not have realized in the beginning was much of a choice at all. Maybe, you had parents that pushed hard for you to attend school, all the while preaching about securing a better life. I know that is the recurring theme in my personal lecture series to my own children. Maybe you wanted to pursue a job that requires the diploma you are about to receive and so you felt this was your only option. Whatever the reason that brought you here, know this: you made a choice to better yourself and through all kinds of adversity, struggle and strife you have accomplished your goal. I see you now all smiling, as you think back on all the crappy jobs you held, the long late nights, covered in books with no other company than the voices in your head and the very early mornings, as you raced out of your room in pajama pants in order to make it to your first class.
I encourage you all to make today memorable with your family and friends, celebrating your brilliance and abilities. Dance the night away, comforted in the knowledge, you are in the very beginning of the rest of your life.
Tomorrow is the dawn of a new day for you. Tomorrow when you awake, you will be faced with the daunting task of deciding what is next for you. Know this, my friends, you have already established by being here today what kind of world you want to live in. You have already set your foundation in knowledge, hard training and diligence. When others tell you that you are the future, know this is true and the future begins now. You are in the extraordinary position, in the most unique time in history, to determine not just your worth in the world, but the worth of future generations. The time we are in is without a doubt one of the most challenging, and yet here you sit as graduates. You will be a generation that inspires others to work hard, and keep heart. You have seen the best and worst humanity has to offer, and you will be the chosen leaders because of the choices you made now, being here with us today. I am thrilled to see you all, ready for what life hands you. I have dubbed you the "Lemonade" generation, because with all the things that could be perceived as hopeless, you maintain that the future is bright, and hope lives strong within each of you. You have already proven, that in the midst of one of the worst economies in history, that achievement can still be had. You have shown the world that the American dream is alive and well, and that your generation is up to the work ahead. You inherited problems, that you weren't even aware existed a decade ago as you played in your yard with your friends as a child, and you decided, as a young adult, that you would use this as a challenge, rather than a deterrent.
It will be your talents, expanding minds and beating hearts that will help reshape the world to be, not as good as it was, but a place where dreams come true, humanity reigns and freedom for all is a reality. It is you, who will be the living example that the greatest generation is not behind us, but in the audience today.
Yours will be the generation of truth seekers, integrity and discovery. Yours will be the generation of charity, empathy and human connection.
As each of you begins to make your own way, remember this moment today as the tipping point, where you decided how the world you live in would be treated.
As a parent, I stand before you, humbled by your drive to create a better future and I say this for all of the parents in the audience today; we gently pass the torch to you in order to illuminate your path ahead and want you to know, we believe in you, just as you believed in us. This is your moment, take a look to your left and right and see the faces, who worked so very hard to earn their place in leadership.
I congratulate you and wish you all the brightest days ahead as you begin to guide the course of history.