I knew our son’s high school graduation day would be a day to remember. These milestone moments are always unforgettable, and we were full of pride and excitement for this next big step.
The graduation Mass would be held in the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen. That felt like a little nudge from God—see how we’re celebrating together in this space where you started this whole family off on your wedding day in September 2004.
Our sons were baptized there too, which just added to the beauty of it all—this wonderful tapestry of life where the threads come together in surprising ways.
That all seemed special enough. What more could the mom of a graduate expect? My heart was full.
But God often has something else up his sleeve. And he likes to make sure we know that he sees us, that he wants to connect with us, and that he’s walking right by our side. So, maybe I should have known he had more in store.
The night before the graduation, I was looking at my list of Masses for 2026. I’ve been keeping track as I pursue my goal of 226 Masses in 2026. And I realized that the graduation Mass would be Mass #94 for me. That would mean nothing to anyone else, but it made me smile. I graduated from high school in 1994, and I would be celebrating our son’s graduation in my 94th Mass of the year. It felt like a fun little gesture from God to say, “Hey, I see you. I knew you’d enjoy this. Here you go!”
Because, of course, God knows how much fun I have with numbers. So, that seemed like a little gift from him, seeing me on a day of so much emotion.
That morning, we took some pictures outside, and then my husband went in to save us space in a pew. He asked if I cared where we were sitting, and I said I just wanted a seat on the aisle so we could see our son processing.
A while later, when I joined him in the pew, I glanced around to see where we were seated. And I realized that looking directly over our pew was the statue of St. John Vianney. He isn’t a saint I’ve been close to, but this year when I randomly selected my saint of the year, he popped up.
It occurred to me that maybe he’s been walking with us through this year, praying for us, and I haven’t even noticed. Maybe he’s playing a special role in our family’s life. I loved that his statue was there. It felt like another little connection between heaven and earth—a reminder that people we know and love in heaven are with us and even people we don’t know as well are part of our story, all connected in this marvelous way.
That night my husband and I were processing the events of the day, feeling proud and exhausted and grateful and excited and maybe a little sad at the passage of time. As we were talking, I opened Facebook and there were my memories from over the years.
And there was a post reminding me that 17 years ago that day my family had thrown a baby shower for me, helping to prepare me for this child we would meet. That very child had accepted his diploma on the altar of the Cathedral that day, reaching out to take it in the same spot where his parents took their marriage vows more than 20 years ago.
I just had to smile. God is all knowing and all loving. As St. Augustine said, “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.” And he is always looking for ways to show us how much he loves us—not just humanity as a whole, but individually, personally, intimately. We just need to keep our eyes and our hearts open to receive those little gestures.
Maybe you find God’s love more in a sunrise or birdsong. Maybe you find it in a young child running toward you to give you a hug. Maybe you find it in a phone call from a friend or a line in a reading at Mass that seems to be written just for you.
But I hope today you’ll experience God’s love in a way that feels personal, created just for you. May those little signs and messages of his love give you the strength and the grace you need to keep writing your story, knowing he is at your side, always.
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