This past month I was awarded a Medicare card.
I thought about that as Linda and I watched our grandson, Connor Scott Stone, graduate from high school.
Time just seems so unreal at times. Sometimes we think we’d like to go back.
But then I realize one of my teachers was time.
You know .... if I only knew then what I know now.
Anyway, we’re so happy for our grandchildren, Connor and his sister, Suzanne Stone.
Connor was in Beta Club all four years and has already completed 12 hours of college credit. His mom, our daughter, Amy “Clark” Stone mentioned, “He just got off the phone and is all registered for summer and fall classes. His advisor was very impressed that he’s starting ahead of the game and will have six classes completed before fall even starts.” Within a week or so he’ll be at the University of South Florida (USF) in Tampa.
Suzanne, not to be outdone by her brother, rocked through middle school. She got all A’s in all classes, advanced algebra, advanced language arts, advanced science and civics, yearbook staff all three years of middle school (only two girls achieved this) and the Pacesetter award (one of 12 kids was selected for this).
Her dad, Scott Stone, smiled at me and said, “Just like we did, huh?” I can’t speak for Scott but I was never a great student.
We arrived in Florida Friday evening. The graduation was 2:30 p.m. on Saturday. Amy had had foot surgery so was wearing one of those boots, and couldn’t drive.
Scott had been pulling double-duty.
Amy brought up needing to get the balloons blown up which spelled out 2021.
I volunteered to take care of that.
Amy said she’d give me a balloon weight and a fitted sheet to cover the balloons so they wouldn’t float in front of me while I was driving.
The picture was coming into focus — the balloons were three feet tall, filled with enough helium to lift a small child, so when my wife came into the bedroom that night I said — “Babe, I think it would be good if you went to help me with those balloons ... just for backup.”
She smiled and said, “So you’ll have some one else to blame if something goes wrong?” Man, does she know me.
We got the balloons back to the house. No problem.
Scott navigated us to the graduation venue like Dale Earnhardt, weaving in and out of thousands of people all headed to the same location.
There was a graduation before Connor’s, his and then another afterwards. Connor’s class had approximately 450, who had completed the course.
There were yells, screams, whistles, a couple bursts of fireworks and a bull horn (not us).
We ended our celebration at the Tokyo Japanese Steakhouse and Sushi Bar, where Scott had worked as a teenager.
It’s one of those places where they prepare the meal in front of you, knives being juggled, flames soaring into the air and hypnotized eggs doing a dance across the grill. Both the food and the magical chef were great.
Back at Scott and Amy’s house everyone sat stuffed, relieved everything went so perfectly and smiling as we reminisced about what time had revealed so far.
Our own history can teach us, but don’t spend too much time thinking about the past.
Just remember when you come to a crossroad, think ahead and choose wisely.
We love you Connor and Suzanne. — Gramps and MeeMee.