My son graduated Saturday afternoon. But let's start at the beginning. 2 a.m. early Saturday morning.

He showed up with 2 girls I never met before asking to borrow the car at 7pm Friday night just to go to a local graduation. I said yes even though he was banned from my car since he took it for an all nighter last Saturday night causing me to be up at 3am texting him to come home now. But how could I go wrong letting him borrow my car for a local graduation? 

I wake up at 2am and no son, no car. I text him. He says he's on his way home. Same text I got the week before. It takes him an hour and a half to get home, the night before his graduation. I accuse him of lying and deflecting, he accuses me of not trusting him. He goes to bed exhausted, both of us mad at each other. This is the beginning of graduation day.

He sleeps upstairs while my father [here from California for the graduation] and I pack and ship 4 boxes including my 2 file boxes that contain ALL of our important paperwork. Since I'm flying out to CO Thursday, I think it might be safe to ship my files now.  The Post Office harumphs over a box and can't guarantee anything so off to the UPS store we go to spend more money in shipping. 2 trips and much coinage later, they are shipped. 

I wake up graduation boy only to discover he needs a full graduation formal wear and is only telling me 3 hours before: black dress pants, black socks, dress shoes, white collared shirt, black tie. Sounds simple but this is Hawaii in May and all anybody wears is shorts and slippahs. I'm ready to strangle him for waiting to the last minute to alert us to the mandatory dress code. And for staying out all night with my car. And for now being sick because that's all he does is stay out all night. And for not helping me at all during this packing, shipping transition time. 

I give him the ultimatum: if he doesn't shape up for my last 5 days in the Tropics, I am handing over my car to my favorite homeless man [instead of to my son.] He knows I will do this and becomes remarkably pleasant.

We swing by his fathers house one hour before graduation: in the parking lot my son changes into a just bought white collared shirt, black filipino wedding shoes, clip on black tie, old black pants that belong to Ken as well as the socks. As I pulled out of my driveway 30 minutes earlier I asked my son where his graduation gown and cap were? Oh, in the house which we are about to drive away from. That's when the homeless lecture kicked in. 

While my son changes clothes in a Hawaii parking lot, my father smokes a cigarette and mentions that this has all the hallmarks of a comedy sketch. I admit I write a blog and if I get a chance, I will be blogging it. He seems mildly impressed. My father lives on cigarettes, espresso and vodka tonics and has managed to live to 71 and golf daily. I hope I've inherited his genes, please God. My father walks over to my former husband to shake his hand in greeting and get introduced to my ex's new wife, 35 years his junior and from the Phillipines.

As we are speeding to the graduation I suddenly realize we have shipped the title to my car to Colorado this morning in my files. Sigh. 

Off to the local university ampitheatre for the graduation. Chaos reigns, the sun beats down, tickets are clutched, pictures are taken, cigarettes are smoked. I pass the time picturing the look of utter happiness if I hand my car over to the homeless man. Maybe I'll have someone take our picture, I muse.

My former husband arrives late as usual with his new Filipino family in tow and they sit down to our right in full view.  

I get misty eyed at the speeches and songs and watch my son experience his graduation. I try to remain present to remember this day, the sights and smells and feelings. This will be one of those moments relived on my death bed. 

After the ceremony we all meet up under the huge letter of his last name to alert us to his whereabouts. Another family whose son is friends with mine, have shown up unexpectedly at the graduation to wish him well. My son clutches more graduation cards and has lei's around his neck. We take pictures. He walks back to the car to collect his belongings and open his cards before heading off to another graduation party.

Sunday morning we picked him up at 10:30 to go to church and then go to lunch. Then he's home to write all of his thank you notes to the people who have loved him [or me] enough to recognize this milestone with cards and checks. I can enjoy this day knowing he will follow through because he is competing with a homeless man for my car. Who said competition wasn't a good thing?