On May 27, my son walked across the stage at Clairemont High School and received his diploma.
A few hours earlier, my daughter graduated kindergarten at an elementary school nearby.
As a parent, you’re supposed to know these moments are coming. You see them on the calendar. You buy the clothes. You take the pictures.
Still, nothing prepares you for seeing the beginning and the end of childhood standing side by side.
One child is learning to tie her shoes and sound out unfamiliar words. The other is deciding what comes next. One is just beginning her journey through school. The other is preparing to leave it behind.
For a few hours, I found myself looking in two directions at once. Forward toward everything that awaits my daughter, and backward toward everything that brought my son to this moment.
It also forced me to confront a truth many parents eventually discover: The father Ryan got is not the same father Daphne gets.
Not because I love one more than the other.
Because people change.
Ryan’s childhood wasn’t easy. His mother was largely absent from his life, and for many years it was just the two of us figuring things out together. I was younger then. More anxious. More convinced that every problem had a solution if I worked hard enough and pushed hard enough.
I was stricter than I needed to be. Less patient than I should have been. I spent a lot of time worrying about getting things right.
Daphne’s experience is different.
Her mother and I are divorced, but she has two parents who love her deeply and show up for her consistently. She lives in a world with more stability and support, and if I’m being honest, she also has a father who is considerably more relaxed than the one Ryan grew up with.
Ryan notices the difference.
Sometimes he’ll point out that Daphne gets away with things he never would have. Sometimes he’ll remind me how strict I was when he was growing up.
He’s not wrong.
What he doesn’t always see is that much of the father Daphne gets exists because of the lessons I learned raising Ryan.
The challenge of parenthood is that there is no opportunity to start over. You don’t get a second chance with the same child. All you can do is keep growing and hope your children benefit from what you’ve learned along the way.
The irony is that some of those lessons came directly from Ryan.
Over the years, I’ve watched him become more than a big brother to Daphne. He’s been her protector, teacher, babysitter, role model and occasional accomplice. There are moments when he slips naturally into the role of caretaker, and I catch a glimpse of the man he is becoming.
Of course, their relationship isn’t always picture-perfect.
Daphne occasionally forgets that Ryan is nearly an adult and decides it is her responsibility to annoy him. Ryan occasionally forgets that Daphne is 6 and responds as if he’s arguing with a peer instead of a first-grader.
Then five minutes later they’re laughing together, sharing an inside joke, or teaming up against me.
Their relationship is one of the greatest gifts of my life.
Some of my favorite moments have come while traveling together. Long car rides, airport delays, sightseeing, shared meals and the little adventures that happen when you’re away from home. Those are the moments when I get to watch them become themselves and watch their relationship grow into something that belongs entirely to them.
A few weeks ago, I taught Daphne how to tie her shoes. Once she figured it out, she wanted to tie them at every opportunity. More importantly, she couldn’t wait to show her mom.
Watching her excitement reminded me how children experience the world. Every accomplishment feels enormous. Every new skill feels like a superpower.
Watching Ryan graduate reminded me of something else.
One day, those small victories become bigger ones. The child who proudly ties their shoes becomes the young adult who walks across a stage, diploma in hand, ready to begin the next chapter of life.
For years, I thought fatherhood was mostly about teaching my children.
Lately, I’ve realized how much of it is about learning from them.
Ryan taught me resilience.
Daphne is teaching me joy.
Together, they have taught me patience, humility, perspective and the uncomfortable truth that children are always paying attention.
Most of all, they have taught me that the measure of a parent is not whether they get everything right.
It’s whether they keep trying to become better.
This Father’s Day, I’ll be thinking about two graduations that happened on the same day.
One child standing at the starting line.
One child crossing an important finish line.
And me, somewhere in the middle, grateful that I got to be their dad.
The years between kindergarten and high school pass faster than anyone tells you.
I’m lucky enough to know that because, for one extraordinary day, I got to see both at once.
VanDiver is a Clairemont resident, U.S. Navy veteran and the president of #AfghanEvac. Find him on X and Instagram at @ShawnJVanDiver.