3 Musketeers

I sat and waiting in anticipation in the midst of a frenzied crowd.. just one name and when it was called, I had to do all I can do stop the tears from flowing. Luke Rayson was named in part by a man who was so proud he wanted everyone to know whose son Luke was. And when that name was called, an unfamiliar emotion ran through my being like a flash of electricity ~ where was this man that Luke was named after?

Then I looked across and up at the stage, as a young boy, walking tall and erect, face full of solemity and promise stepped forward to shake his Head Teacher's hand. And it didn't really matter where this said man was, cos in that child, it was me.

He had a mortar board a size too big, but yet, he never moved from his position to push it out from his brow. He did not fidget nor did he fuss. And that again told me, he is my boy.

There was nothing I wanted more than anything to have them do at this young stage, the moving of the mortar tassle - there is something very profound in the act of having the tassle being moved from one side to the other, as a symbolic act of a change. While it is a small, tiny change - going from pre-school to proper school, something tells me, with Luke, it would be so much more than that.

So yes, I am feeling a wee bit melancholic and old today.. my youngest has finished pre-school.. my eldest is actually making diary entries in the way we did when we were 12 or 13 .. another decade, before my 45th birthday, I'd be standing at some Departure Terminal, sending her off on her way to college or university...

  

Time flies. We're months away from 2010 and the future still uncertain but awaits us. And while for now it's the 3 Musketeers, I must start readying myself that soon it would be just two and then just me. But I look forward to it without a pang of sadness - cos if what they say about being parent is true - I have 2 fine persons to carry on my legacy, that I am very sure!