The lyrics of Hair are running through my head today. It’s most likely because this guy is graduating this weekend. Our sons have crazy amounts of fun with their hair–just ask to see their driver’s license photos. But Jer may be the master. And as child #3 graduates, he deserves a blog post. I recall him asking years ago, “Are there any pictures of me by myself?” Here you go, Jeremy.
A couple moments stand out for me from Jeremy’s college years, and they have nothing to do with academics. (He’s as exceptional at sleeping as he is at growing hair, but he’s no academic slouch.) Telling your kids about a cancer diagnosis is not high on my list of fun things. But our kids know how to bring the fun wherever they go . . . It was Thanksgiving weekend, when I would annually bemoan No Shave November. Did it have to finish after the weekend I wanted to snap a Christmas card picture? First words out of Jeremy’s mouth, “I’m not cutting my hair for a Christmas card picture, but if you lose your hair, I’ll cut mine in solidarity.”
He did, and raised money for children fighting cancer.
Of course, he had some fun with the process . . .
Last summer, when a cabin trip was cancelled due to my inability to make a potentially rough boat trip to get there, Jeremy took a mysteriously long time commuting home from his internship. Turns out he was buying us a bed-and-breakfast gift certicate so we could at least get away for a bit.
Recent hair shenanigans may be obvious in graduation weekend photos, but in hindsight, it’s not the hair under the mortarboard we care about. We’re so proud of the heart under that robe. Part of St. Olaf’s fight song is “We sure are the real stuff.” You are, Jer, you are.
writing along the way 