I dropped Jack off at school yesterday following an incredibly long blood draw (I counted 12 syringes – poor kid). When Jack marched into his classroom, his school mom, Monica, ran up to me to show me that Jack’s school portrait had arrived, “Look how handsome”. “Look how mature he looks”, said his teacher, Mr Dan. Handsome and mature – indeed. Then, it struck me that it was Jack’s last school portrait. He’s graduating in June.

I did what I have been doing a lot lately — I quickly left an emotional situation. My mind was spinning the whole way home. It’s his last school photo. His last year at Horizon High School. His last year with these kids, these teachers.

I walked into the house and placed the envelop of pictures on our kitchen island – facing up where Jack’s face could stare up at the ceiling.

All day I kept pausing at the photo. It had me unnerved

It didn’t make any sense why this photo got under my skin. It’s Jack. A face I see every day. I know those eyes, that smile, as well as I know my own, but something about this picture made me see my boy from another perspective. He looks like a man. Like a very typical 21-year-old man.

I kept looking at the photo as if it were trying to speak to me. But, what was it about this picture?                    

It finally occurred to me last night as I was trying to fall asleep why this photo has been haunting me. It’s that it doesn’t really look like a school portrait. Jack’s 21 – too old for a high school photo.  This is a picture of a man. It’s a picture that belongs on an employee  name tag or a fraternity composite. 

I’ve been dreading Jack’s next chapter. Not being able to imagine him leaving the safety and security of his school. Not being prepared to see him start something new – something full of adults. Something that doesn’t have “school” in it’s title.

When I looked at the picture again this morning, I realized what it had been trying to say to me yesterday. This picture is telling me that it’s time. Jack’s outgrowing his school. It’s time for him to start his life as an adult. He’s not a child anymore. He’s a man and he’s ready to make a change. 

Let’s just hope that I’m ready by June.

Love, Jess