Friday, May 28. Graduation. It's one of the really big days for the Fitzmorrises. Jude left his movie to fend for itself and flew in from Los Angeles. I cut the radio show short and rolled uptown. And the Marys have been busy all morning making adjustments to the billowing pink dress they've worked on for weeks.
Mary Leigh's high school graduation was as different from Jude's as girls are different from boys. His took place in a gym--an impressive new one, but unmistakably athletic and technological. The ceremony featured plenty of backslapping (both physical and verbal) and self-congratulation.
This graduation was decidedly pastoral. It took place on the lawn of the beautiful Victorian mansion that is the heart of the school, beneath spreading oak trees, hedges, and flowers. Small, intimate, emotional. The leading feeling among the girls was a beaming face fueled by a heart bubbling over with joy and pride. In distant second place were tears--most of them in the eyes of parents.
Favorite teachers, alumnae, administrators, and students spoke, with humorous love and only a few of the predictable themes. It made the most of this amazing moment. No matter what happens in the future, it will remain a pivot point. This is the last major accomplishment these girls will mark as anything like children. Graduating from college will be nowhere near as good, because they'll be adults then.
Frankly, the ceremonies were anticlimactic. So many rivers of energy already have emptied into the ocean in the past few weeks that there was almost nothing left to do. A small brass ensemble played "Pomp and Circumstance." The seniors billowed down the steps of the mansion, one at a time. The diplomas were handed out. The brass played again, and the graduates paraded out. And that was that. It was perfect. Full, satisfying closure.
A dinner party followed at Metairie Country Club. Another anticlimax. The girls visited and danced with one another. With parents all around, there couldn't have been fewer boys on the dance floor if a "No Boys Allowed" sign were posted.
The parents were otherwise occupied. We waited in a long line to buy tickets for drinks, waited in another long line to actually get the drinks, then waited in a third line to make up plates of food from the buffet. It was just the kind of food you'd expect. (Although I did see Gregg Collier, formerly of the Red Fish Grill and Bayona before that, managing things. He's the chef here, but not long enough that I'd expect his stamp to be on the food yet.)
After about an hour and a half, the graduates were ready to get on with their lives, and the parents began looking at their watches. It was after ten. A big party up the street awaited the ladies, where they would most definitely allow gentlemen. They changed out of their magnificent pink dresses into their regular short skirts and T-shirts. The princesses resumed being girls.
