On May 31, I sit on a cheap and uncomfortable chair, straining my neck painfully in hopes of seeing a glimpse of my only brother in his high school graduation gown. I see the blur of a couple hundred teenagers talking excitedly and patting their hairspray-drenched hair.
My mother looks at me sadly. “Our little boy is leaving the nest. At least he is graduating, an adult that I need to let go of.”
I tense up, anger and annoyance creeping into my body. My mother is alluding, in her subtle way, to my dropping out of high school. Why is she talking to me in such an intimate manner all of a sudden? We exchange only the stiff formalities that family is supposed to, a relationship with no more depth than that between her and the dozens of acquaintances she exchanges Christmas Cards with yearly. …show more content…
I force a smile. “Yeah”, I tell her, in my peppiest voice. My brother emerges onto the stage, behind the principal.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Benjamin Fulton, whom I am proud to call our valedictorian of 2014”, the principal, beaming, says into the microphone. Benjamin, of course, gives a beautiful speech. It has all of the right, eloquent things that I suppose a speech should have. I cheer for him, hug my family, and watch the rest of the graduation. This is our routine when I come to visit. My parents grin, gush, and make small talk peppered with passive aggression.
Benjamin runs up to me. “Lucy! I am so glad you could make it!” says my younger brother genuinely.
Start: 7:30 11/17/15 I tell him how proud I am of him and wish him well. My heart is full of happiness for my little brother. He’s going to college in Atlanta. With a smile and a goodbye, he walks off to talk to some friends. I have to go back to New York City this evening, where I work as a