Wear It Like a Medal

Twenty years between two semesters But you never dropped the dream You did your homework at the table where the kids did theirs Spelling tests and term papers, one lamp between the chairs Youngest in the carpool line, oldest in the class You raised your hand at forty — that takes a kind of brass Life said "later," then kept talking You finally said "now" Diploma at forty — wear it like a medal, friend You finished what life paused, you picked the story up again The kids saw every late night, they learned what trying means Diploma at forty Right on time, it seems Night class after day shift, parking lot at nine Eating dinner from a thermos on chapter twenty-nine The professors called you "ma'am," the kids there called you brave You called it Tuesday, hung your coat, and turned another page Some finish in four years You finished in spite of twenty Diploma at forty — wear it like a medal, friend You finished what life paused, you picked the story up again The kids saw every late night, they learned what trying means Diploma at forty Right on time, it seems Your daughter wrote her college essay on the bravest one she knows It wasn't some celebrity It was you, at the kitchen table, refusing to let go Diploma at forty — wear it like a medal, friend You finished what life paused, you picked the story up again The kids saw every late night, they learned what trying means Diploma at forty Right on time, it seems Hang it by the kitchen lamp Where the work got done