How did I do it?

I put my head down and blasted through for three years, working, going to school or doing homework with no breaks, no real vacations and no free time.

Once a year, I went with my closest friends for a weekend on the river where I blew off steam, acted like a wild Samoan and was able to recapture a bit of what I’d skipped by growing up too fast. I cherished those weekends.

Every day I looked at my doe-eyed son (from the time he was a toddler to a preschool kid) and knew that working and going to school was for him, as much as it was for me, and that by sticking with it and getting through it, I could help make a better future for him.

My dad had worked full time and gone to law school when my sisters were little — I figured if he had done it, so could I. Apparently we’ve both passed down a difficult legacy.

I absolutely lived for the day I’d graduate (and my son would attend, in his tiny clip-on tie) and with each semester, the light at the end of the tunnel got a little brighter.

It was exhausting. He’s right. But I got through it. And so will he.

The blogger and family, graduation day, 1995