A Father’s Reflections on the Graduation of His Daughter

I grew up in Houston, from the time I was five till I left for college 40 years ago. Sometimes I go to the old house on visits, walk around it, remembering the significant milestones, contemplating how I’ve changed since boyhood…and how I may be the same. Stalking through the ghost town of a former life, so still and quiet, but alive with memories.

I believe today is my 7th time to the Ranch here at Fulshear: first, that memorable, emotional dropping off at our 1st born Jenny. Then 5 very special family visits. And now, graduation.

I think I may have an idea of what my 8th and later visits could be like.

Since I live just under 3 hours away and come this way once a year or so, no doubt I’ll want to drive in the country to bypass the big city headed to the coast. Several years from now I’ll pull up to this big country home with the barn and cottages and walk quietly through the grounds while all sorts of memories light up my mind from within like a Christmas tree.

Poignant moments in the blue cottage where members of a family I’d never seen before or since lay out deep painful emotions, then tearfully hug one another. Goofy, fun games played by the pool amid laughter, though pregnant with meaning and significance for the players. The office upstairs where my own family members bared our souls and learned to be better for one another. Personal discoveries and family milestones.

No doubt I’ll make my way to the barn, remembering an earlier visit with moist eyes when the nesting birds sang so brilliantly that I’ll never forget. When I cast away a stone in a powerful symbol of forgiveness. Years from now I’ll come for that 8th time, my even-older frame creaking as I walk thoughtfully about, remembering all this and more: the journey my wife and I, and especially Jenny had here.

That’s what it was, more than a school or treatment center: for us, it was a journey.

Of paramount significance to this journey were the people. The heartache, pain, and triumph of other families, yes, but most of all the skilled, unselfish, loving yet firm staff that have been so very important to us this last year and a half. Their impact on our lives, in truth, will endure forever. And we are forever thankful.

So in spite of the regular visits being a minor inconvenience, and despite the fact that we might have bought a vacation cabin with what it cost, our journey to Fulshear has been a gift to my family—all of us, not just Jenny.

Finally, I want to give honor to my daughter, Jenny. The happiest day of my life was the day of her birth. Which doesn’t mean I love her more than her sister; she simply came first. Because for all my life before that day, the prospect of fatherhood was about obligations, responsibilities, and earthly concerns. With her birth, all that anxiousness was overwhelmed by a brilliant love, as a symphony smothers a whisper. Love.

The courage Jenny showed as she struggled with her own insecurities, behavior patterns, and stubbornness I marvel at and admire. And as a legal adult, she stayed, when she could have left any day. (You know that, right Jenny?)

So, I salute you Jenny on the occasion of your graduation from Fulshear and doing so on your own—a major accomplishment that you should forever be proud of.