Tears, Tassels, and Terrible Jokes: A Letter to Son From Mom, College Graduation Edition

06 May 2024
us
Emil

Remember that awkward stage when you thought I knew nothing and you, my son, knew everything? Yeah, well, graduation robes don't magically bestow wisdom, no matter how much you think they do. But that's okay, because here's the thing about us moms: we secretly loved that stage. It was proof you were becoming your own man, one hilariously misinformed opinion at a time.

Now, before you roll your eyes (yes, I can still sense it through the phone), this isn't going to be a lecture. This is a letter, a tangible piece of my heart on paper, because honestly, you'll probably lose the graduation card in that disaster you call a room. It's also a message in a bottle of sorts, something to find years from now when you're wondering how you got from cap and gown to mortgage payments and questioning if I even understand your fancy new job (I probably won't, let's be real).

The truth is, son, life after college is a lot like trying to parallel park in a city you've never been to. A million directions, people honking (metaphorically, hopefully), and that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, you should have asked for help a bit sooner. But here's where your mom's wisdom comes in, free of charge and liberally sprinkled with terrible jokes that only we find funny.

You're going to face rejections. Not just the job kind, but the friend request denied, the relationship fizzle, the "wait, they actually expect me to cook for myself?" kind of rejections. And through it all, remember those awkward teenage years? The ones you thought I knew nothing about? I was there, in my own way, navigating my own version of adulthood. And guess what? I survived. And you will too.

This letter, this little piece of me traveling through time to your future self, is just a reminder. You are loved. You are capable. You are hilarious when you're not trying so hard to be cool (seriously, where did you learn that eye roll?). Go out there, make mistakes that would make my hair turn white (oh wait...), and never, ever stop calling this old lady to tell me about it. Even if it's just to laugh at how little I understand. Because that, my son, is the real definition of success.

Love always (and slightly embarrassing you, as is my right),

Mom

Why This Letter Matters (Even If You Pretend It Doesn't)

Let's be practical. You might be thinking this letter is just another sentimental thing moms do. But it's more than that.

It's a time capsule:

Years from now, this letter will be a snapshot of this moment, a reminder of the hopes, dreams, and maybe even the questionable fashion choices you had at this stage of your life. And trust me, you'll want to remember this.

It's a source of strength:

Life gets tough. Having a physical reminder of your mom's unconditional love and support can be surprisingly comforting during those inevitable low points.

It's just plain cool:

Okay, maybe not "cool" in the traditional sense. But years from now, when you're digging through old boxes and stumble upon this letter, you'll secretly (or not-so-secretly) appreciate the gesture.

Now What? (Because I Know You Need a Plan)

You've graduated. You've read the letter (maybe even twice). Now what?

1. Actually keep the letter. I know, revolutionary, right? Find a safe place for it, whether it's a memory box, a favorite book, or even (gasp!) your wallet.

2. Consider writing back. I know, even more revolutionary. But seriously, sharing your own thoughts, dreams, and even fears can be incredibly cathartic. Plus, it'll give your mom a good cry (the happy kind, I promise).

3. Use it as fuel. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. When things get tough, reread the letter. Remember the love, the support, and the terrible jokes. And then go out there and kick some metaphorical butt.

So there you have it, son. A letter, a legacy, and a whole lot of love, all wrapped up in a slightly embarrassing package. Welcome to the real world. You've got this.