Tonight I'm too darned proud
It's prom night and my younger son is out for the evening, dressed in his grandpa's tux and a hand-tied bowtie he decided was more elegant than the clip-on bowties he has been wearing in orchestra for years. He looked amazing - very Frank Sinatra - combining the enthusiasm of youth with the sophistication to listen to classic jazz while putting on a tux.
Some of the kids he is out with tonight started with him in kindergarten. It's a long time to stay friends, through a mind-boggling sequence of changes. There are more changes ahead. Yesterday they were just in high school. Tomorrow, they'll start working on being adults. Tonight they celebrate the edge between them.
We gathered outside the limo with other proud parents. We're proud of them and of us. They are almost adults and we can almost let out the breath we've been holding since they were born. Since then, they have held our futures in their hands. Then we worried. Tomorrow they will face the world as adults, and we will worry again.
Tonight we are on the edge with them. Celebrating.