got to talking and realized that’s where school steps in and fills a need. Teachers. People who make an impact on us and build memories with us in spite of having to be there. The assignments they insist we do, the deadlines we have to meet. The time we spend together. So, thank you to the teachers who stepped in and became our parental figures when we needed it most.”
A spattering of applause grew into a solid rumble. It was clear by the grins on the teachers’ faces that Lance’s acknowledgement was appreciated.
Fingers tightening on the edges of the podium, he took a deep breath and started again.
“But for my memory page, when I look back at the years here in Rocky—when I think about the time with my family and my friends, the one person who stands out is somebody who didn’t have to be there, but chose to be there.”
Beth’s fingers tightened on Daniel’s thigh, and he went very still as Lance deliberately met his gaze across the gathering.
“The first time I saw Daniel Coleman, he gently gave myself and my brothers hell for swimming unsupervised in the coulee below our rental house. And when I say gently, I mean he somehow convinced three strange boys that he wasn’t a danger and that it would be the most fun ever to get out of the deep water and into a section where we were less likely to drown.”
The memory was there for Daniel as well. Sharp and sweet, because it had been the beginning.
Lance continued, gaze drifting over the audience that included the rest of his extended family. “That first chance meeting was followed by more official swimming sessions and then babysitting, but even when I figured out that he was interested in my mom, I never felt as if he wasn’t interested in me. Spending time with me was not a means to an end, but because he thought I was a pretty cool guy.
“Since then, in the childish moments where I felt the world was cruel or unjust, there was somebody who chose to be there, to tell me he didn’t understand why either, but that somehow we’d get through it. Or the childish moments of joy, when everything went right, he chose to be there as well, joining in the laughter and the praise. Those are moments I never want to let go of.”
A subtle silence had fallen over the gathering, heads once again nodding as they all considered the truth of Lance’s words.
He turned again to the graduating class.
“And while this is my world, I know it’s true for each of you, my classmates. In the future, there will be times we’ll be disappointed. There will be times the struggle will be hard, and what we’ll need is someone in our lives who chooses to be there for all the right reasons. Maybe we’ll have to go looking for them. Maybe they’re already there.
“Or maybe the biggest gift we need to give the world we’re stepping into is to be that person for someone else.
“Let’s hold on to the lessons of childhood and make a difference. Let’s do this right. Let’s choose to be the change.”
A round of applause and cheers rose from the audience, but Daniel was already moving, Beth’s hand on his shoulder pushing him toward the aisle.
Lance marched across the stage, not toward the side where he was supposed to wait with the rest of his class but toward the makeshift stairs at the front on a direct trajectory for where his family stood.
They met, Lance damn near running the final steps to throw himself into Daniel’s arms, the tall, strong young man just about bowling Daniel over.
He didn’t care that they were right out there in public, and obviously neither did Lance, because he squeezed Daniel tight, letting go only enough to reach out and grab his mother and pull Beth into the mix as well.
“I love you.” Lance made it a declaration as if it were the final line of his speech. As if nothing was complete without this. “I am so proud to be your son.”
Joy bubbled up, chasing away the tears that were there and the emotion that was strangling Daniel’s throat so tight, he couldn’t speak. Because he needed to speak. He desperately needed to share this truth.
He looked his son in the face. “It has been my privilege to be in your life, and you have no idea how much it changed me for the