My sons cut me off when I spent my own savings on college instead of saving it for them — but what happened on graduation day brought me to tears
My name is Roland, and at sixty-eight years old, I can finally say something I spent most of my life believing I had missed the chance to say. I graduated from college.
Four years earlier, when I told my two sons that I had enrolled at our local university, neither of them congratulated me.
My oldest, Trenton, sat across from me at the kitchen table staring at the tuition papers as though I had just announced that I was giving away the house.