"Pre-grieving" My Daughter's 8th Grade Graduation

The end of the school year is always crazy, what with parent breakfasts, end of the year teacher conferences, school musicals, science fairs and dance recitals, but this year, it is all compounded ten fold by the fact that Mazzy is graduating 8th grade. Not just 8th grade, she is graduating a K-8 school that she has been in since kindergarten. And since Harlow switched schools a few years ago, I kinda feel like I’ll be graduating too.

When we started at this school back in 2014, I was one of the moms who avoided volunteering like the plague. I was a working parent who did not have time for that. Maybe I would do an hour at the book fair or a time slot at a game booth during the class picnic, but I was not a constant fixture at the school. My attitude changed post-pandemic when I think everyone’s priorities shifted. There were a few years that all social events stopped, parents were not allowed in the school and I missed that community feeling terribly. For the past two years, I’ve actually been a class parent, which isn’t really that much work now that I’m doing it, but still, kindergarten-mom-Ilana never would have believed it.

I’ve also taken a lead role in a lot of the parent-run graduation festivities. I didn’t really mean for this to happen, but I made the mistake of asking the question, “what are the things the 8th grade parents usually do to mark the end of the year?” and then suddenly, it was me recruiting parents and sending ridiculously lengthy emails with titles like “PLEASE READ: IMPORTANT GRADUATION INFO.”

Ultimately, a lot of parents have stepped up to organize “the things,” like a graduation party off school premises, custom designed Class of 2023 sweatshirts and an 8th grade trip to a waterpark on the day after graduation. The task I decided to take on, because it felt wrong not to step up when it was so obviously in my wheelhouse, is the Class of 2023 Yearbook, which chronicles the grade’s entire time at the school. For the past month, I’ve been collecting photos from the parents, looking through the school photo archive, pouring through my own photo library, designing yearbook pages, collecting sentiments from the kids, making sure each child was equally represented… it was an UNDERTAKING, to say the least. But as of last Friday, the yearbook was completed and sent to print. We are supposed to get copies on the 9th and I sincerely hope everyone loves it.

Last week was the school musical. Mazzy played Mae Peterson in Bye Bye Birdie. She says that she is not going to continue with drama productions in high school, largely because of the time commitment, but let me tell you— she was FABULOUS. I know we all talk about Harlow being a gigantic ham, but Mazzy commands so much presence when she is up on stage. She also has great comedic timing and always gravitates to the funny character roles. Like last year, she played Mr. Salt brilliantly in Willy Wonka. If you don’t know the role of Mae Peterson, she is an overbearing mother who keeps guilt tripping her son every time he doesn’t do what she wants. She’s the villain and gets all the laughs. Just like with her Bat Mitzvah, Mazzy didn’t let us hear her practice one line before opening night. We saw her perform the role for the first time just like everybody else. But there she was, up there on the stage, nailing it. Everything memorized, getting all the laughs and taking her much deserved bow.

“You must be so proud of her,” the head of school said to me after the show.

“Oh, I am.”

“She’s going to do so great in high school.”

“Oh, I know.”

Then she asked me how I was dealing with all the end of the year activities and if it was hitting me yet. I told her that I tend to mentally prepare myself way ahead of time. So last year, when some of my friends were going through the emotional roller coaster of 8th grade graduation, I found the thought of leaving the school and this community unbearable. I’m going to be AN ABSOLUTE MESS, I thought to myself. Since then, I’ve been working hard to get used to the idea. Shoring up the friendships I’m gonna take with me and try to make stick (I have really made some good ones). Being as involved as possible so I have no regrets. Making this damn yearbook. I told her that I think I’m okay. I’ve accepted it and we’re ready to move on.

But then as I was walking away (I apologize in advance for the Succession reference), I thought about Roman and his “pre-grieving.” He brags to his siblings that he’s already dealt with his father’s death, practices his eulogy with great confidence and bravado, and then absolutely falls apart at the funeral.

That’s gonna be me, I think.