Last Thursday, my brother David graduated from Clay-Chalkville High School. He graduated as an honors graduate with over a 4.0 GPA because of the honors classes he took and how well he did in them. I was so proud of him!! His girlfriend, Shelby, graduated too, and they were quite the couple in their robes and tassels. (But they're always quite the couple because they're both so good lookin!) Big Mama came and the whole family was able to celebrate. Afterwards, Shelby's mom invited us over to her house for a celebration dinner and we got to meet a lot of Shelby's family. It was quite the evening.
Dad, David, and Mom
David, Big Mama, and Shelby
However, there's nothing like your little brother's graduation to officially make you feel old. As we were waiting on David's name to be called out (after Mr. Robert Adams complained about Summerville starting with an "S." I, on the other hand, being new to the benefits of a last name at the beginning of the alphabet appreciate it much more fully having come from the ranks of the lower half, though I feel Robert got a glempse of my childhood frustration having to wait hours for my name to be called for softball tryouts, graduation, etc.), I kept thinking about how I had graduated in the same building six years earlier. SIX!!! Goodness, when you're closer to your 10-year high school reunion than the year you graduated that's it - you're just plain old.
Then I got to thinking how old I would be when Ryan, the last of the Summerville clan, graduates in three years in 2011. TWENTY-SEVEN! We're your closer to 30 than you are to 20 that's old. I kept thinking I may even be a mom by then - and life would be way different than it is now. Than I dismissed the whole thought of being old before I started freaking myself out and tuned back in to the monotonous name calling. (Thanks for the reminder Dave! We can't wait to come tailgate with you this fall in Tuscaloosa!)
Me and my Bros
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