Let's start as my day started, with something beautiful. The lake and sky were a beautiful shade of slate blue with a splash of ice yellow.

The picture does not do it justice. But the surreal colors had me do a double-take.

I set out on a bike ride last evening and just as I left, I saw my neighbor who lives at the corner walking home. The rain the other day had bent her new tree to the ground. I'd noticed that her fix was to tape up the trunk protector to hold it up. Not good. I had the materials to stake it, so in our broken English we got it accomplished together. She was quite the chatterbox. I learned she is a year older than I, is from Vietnam, been here 16 yrs, can only see out of 1 eye, has 2 daughters. No husband. I eventually got out on my bike: 5.25 mi, 40 minutes.

I read a news item about a young man who had graduated from high school and had no one there to witness it or celebrate. His mom had died when he was 13, his dad disappeared.

Everybody had someone waiting for them after they crossed that stage. I had nobody," Schmerbeck wrote. "Deceased mother. Absent father. No brothers. No grandparents. Just me, standing in a room full of celebrations trying not to fall apart. The hardest part wasn't graduating," he says. "It was watching everyone else celebrate with the people who showed up for them."

Boy did that bring up some long buried feelings that even today, 44 years later, bring tears to my eyes. I was that kid in a way. Aunt A planned her 50th wedding anniversary party on my high school graduation day. The parents chose to go to that party instead. While my friends had their pictures taken with friends and family out on the lawn, me and one other kid "Ski" were in the band room returning our gowns. It was such an empty, lonely place to be. I walked home to an empty house, opened the few cards I'd received, took the parent's 2nd car and disappeared with my friends for a week. The parents never said a word or even asked me where I'd been when I returned. "What was I supposed to do? Her 50th anniversary only happens once," mom said several years later when I asked for an explanation. As though I had graduated from high school multiple times and it was no big deal. Unbelievably, something very similar happened again when I graduated from college after 6 years of working 30hrs a week at the same time to pay for it. Dad received a professor emeritus honor at the same ceremony. So he at least attended the ceremony that time. But for himself. And he had a party afterward. For himself. I couldn't invite any friends to the party to celebrate my success. Because I was getting married two weeks later and that was my big day he explained. This was his big day. So his party had no mention of my achievement. I was pissed about it, and I mentioned to one of dad's friends at the party that I had just graduated at the same ceremony. I will never forget the look of appall and pity I received from her.

It wasn't until my 40s, parents dead, and I had earned the second degree, with honors, that my accomplishment was recognized. I wasn't pushed off to the side this time. Brother, oldest sister, my 3 kids and three friends from work showed up at my graduation ceremony and cheered and whistled when I walked across the stage. I had no idea brother from out of state would be there. Sister threw a party for me AND son who was graduating from high school that spring, both our names on the cake. I think that was one the most touching events in my life. That people showed up for me, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

Now, I'm not saying I had it as bad as this young man. I had a roof over my head and food on the table. But I can share the emptiness of having no one.