Good Enough

Yesterday, I sent my youngest off to her first day of high school. Today, I sent my oldest off to his first day of sophomore year. In keeping with tradition, they held signs and posed for photos on the front steps. 

 

But the difference was that this year the signs were a little less fancy and the photos were a little less polished. Because they were always a "Dad thing." Dad knew how to print a document with a fancy border and elegant text, and he had a photographer's eye that avoided shadows and lens flare and always had balanced composition. This year, it fell on me. I did the best I could, but I'm not Dad. 

My signs had a simple, rectangular border and a basic font without any shading or highlighting. I apparently picked a color that wasn't dark enough to show up really well in the photos. The photos are framed so the kids are a little off-center, the steps not exactly horizontal. There are weeds visible at the foot of the stairs. I deleted a bunch of the ones where they're both standing up because they have such a significant height difference that I either cut off the top of my son's head or I zoomed out so much that it just looked weird. 

But I got it done. We have photographic evidence of their first day. Years from now, when I put together the whole series of "First Day of School" photos, there won't have to be a gap. The difference in quality might be noticeable to some, but there won't be an absence. 

Except there will be an absence. We will always remember, when we look at these photos, that this was the first big moment when Dad wasn't there. When we had to carry on with normal life even though it was far from normal. When Mom stepped in and did her best, but it wasn't quite the same. 

I expect there to be a lot of moments like that in the future: Not quite the same. When they graduate from high school, we won't have the standard photos of Mom and Dad framing the beaming graduate. But we'll have photos, and although it won't be quite the same, it will be good enough. When they get married, Dad won't walk my daughter down the aisle or give my son "manly advice" and a fatherly slap on the back, but I'll be there. It won't be the same, but it will be good enough. When they buy their first house, Dad won't be the one sabering champagne to celebrate, but one of us that he trained will be. It won't be the same, but it will be good enough. When they become parents, Grandpa won't be there to hog the baby, but Nana Pott will have plenty of cuddles and lots of stories of the amazing, funny, wonderful, loving grandfather that they never met. It won't be the same, but it will be good enough. 

Nothing will ever be the same. But I think it just might be good enough.