A Bittersweet Day
Combs High School Graduation - Class of 2025
A bittersweet day …
High school graduation. A day of celebration. A passage into adulthood. A day to celebrate with friends and family.
I walked on the field and saw a sea of empty white chairs. Two of those chairs adorned with graduation attire for Preston and Jameire. Both of your lives taken to soon due to senseless teen violence. As I looked at all the white chairs it reminded me of when I went to Arlington National Cemetary. It is dedicated to those who served our country and every gravesite has a white headstone. When you look at the cemetery it is filled with rolling hills of white headstones. Today, it was a sea of empty white chairs. I thought, there will be a child for everyone of these chairs, except two. Two lives that were taken far to soon. I looked at Prestons chair and thought, you should be here. This isn't fair. Everyone would be so proud of you and excited for your future dreams that you worked so hard towards.
In that moment I knelt down to take a closer look at your "Posthumous Award in Memory of" diploma. I immediately had a flood of memories and emotions. I remembered sitting by your bedside in the hospital PICU, kneeling in reverence of you for your funeral viewing by your casket and now kneeling in front of an empty chair. A chair that you should have been sitting in. Instead, memorabilia lined it. A hat and gown lay lifeless, your varsity letter adorned with your basketball, golf and diploma pins, 2 white roses, honor cords and your diploma. In that moment it was like losing you all over again.
Sitting for the ceremony, it started with a moment of silence and speeches were read about future plans. One of Preston’s friends, Logan Tuckfield, was Valedictorian. He wore a pair of green Boston Celtics socks in memory of him for graduation. In all the events we did for Preston over the past year he could never get up to speak about Preston because of his own pain of losing him. Tonight was different, he stood tall and determined and spoke to the class of 2025. The best part of his speech was at the end when he said, "We did it, Preston William Lord!" That spoke to my heart. He has been carrying Preston with him throughout all of his days. Living for him, because that is what Preston would have wanted for all of his friends. To live their best lives.
They soon started announcing all of the graduating seniors but started with Preston William Lord and Jameire Jenkins’ names. It was bittersweet to be at the graduation ceremony. It was exciting to celebrate with your friends and see how happy they were in that moment, while devastating to us that you were not there. It was an honor that Combs High School recognized both, you and Jameire for what would have been your graduation ceremony. A time of celebration filled with both grief and love. After the graduation hats were thrown in the air and all of the families rushed the field to hug their children, dad ran as fast as he could to get all of your belongings off the chair. He was so protective of them and clutched them in his arms as if he was holding onto you so tight. Dad brought your varsity letterman jacket to the ceremony and wore it in honor of you. It was important that you were recognized at the graduation ceremony. Mom fought hard to make sure of it. Your dedication to Combs and involvement with athletics, student council and the honor society proved you were worthy of recognition. A recognition you deserved. You touched so many hearts Preston. Your friends will carry you with them into the future. I also thought, how sad that all of your friends won't be together anymore. They have supported one another during this whole process of lossing you. Some are going to another country, some are going out of state to college and some are staying close to home. One thing for sure is they have an unbreakable bond with not only you but with each other. Wherever their lives take them you are sure to be with them always, just as you are with us, always.
—Written by Melissa Ciconte, Preston’s Bonus Mom
