Today, the day of Elisa’s High School Graduation, I have one main thought. Elisa is remarkable. That thought is with me when she appears like magic in the reception line before the ceremony. That thought is with me as she performs a One Direction song with her classmates. That thought is with me when she’s in a white dress and gives a short speech on what it means to be graduating, a speech full of memories and hope. That thought is with me as she accepts her diploma. That thought is with me as I catch her emotion on stage. That thought is with me when the emotion flows after the ceremony, when we didn’t coordinate the meet up. That thought is with me as she helps me to order lunch for the family celebration.
What makes Elisa remarkable, that is the question. Yes, she has smarts and works hard as reflected in her near perfect grades. I appreciate her smarts, but there is a lot more that makes her remarkable. It’s her grace. She’s empowered without being entitled. The way she suggested I dress “nice” for the graduation which conveyed the importance to her without being a demand. The way she considers others but doesn’t sacrifice herself. The way she feels pressure but does not break. The way she takes on life.
When Elisa was four, Yang and I split up and I left the house. She remembers the time as me disappearing for a couple of years even though I was around. But the feeling that her dad was “gone”, just “gone” had an impact that is captured in her if not in words. I often think of what I could have done differently, not to have taken the little girl’s daddy away. What would I change, if I could? Are regrets earned?
For the last two years of Elisa’s high school, Yang stayed in Toronto to help out with her elder siblings. Yang was always a text, a call away. Away but present. When we all met up in NYC this February I saw Elisa and Yang having a moment of emotion. I was grateful for the closeness they have. At the same time, I could not help but feel a tinge of regret. Part of it is me, in a constant state of hide and seek with my feelings. Part of it may be the four year old who didn’t know where her daddy went.
Elisa managed her last two years largely on her own, spending a couple nights a week with me and the rest of the time with her grandmother in Yang’s apartment. I didn’t help her much with her studies, she was a remarkable learner in that way.