#tama = affectionate name for 'son' in maori

[mikvere-blog]

💜

💜- a memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad

MAY 25TH, 2016. ☓ * ⋆ “ MIKA ! ” —– solana’s voice rings out over the tumult and commotion, waves of bodies in black caps and gowns and cords and sashes pouring out from the double doors as if they can’t leave fast enough. can you blame them ? they just graduated – they’re all certified adults ™  now, or whatever. mika’s head whips back and forth as he tries to pinpoint the source of his mother’s voice ( hand moving up to prevent his cap from flying off in the process ), and it doesn’t take him long; she’s standing on the curb alongside his step-family, his father and a dozen members of his maternal family, and instantly, a wide grin spreads across his face.

( she hadn’t told him they were coming. in fact, a few of them – cousins, aunts, uncles – had told him they couldn’t make it for one reason or another. and after a while, he decided he was fine with that – they’d see the photos eventually, he reasoned. but leave it to his mother to make it happen, let alone to make it a SURPRISE. )

clutching his diploma in one hand, he weasels his way through his former classmates, ducking occasionally to avoid accidentally photobombing any sentimental family photos until he gets to his family – and all at once, they envelop him in a massive, nearly suffocating group hug. he’s at the center of the commotion, his family cheering happily, kissing his head, and he’s laughing so hard his lungs hurt.

they make their rounds, putting leis of flowers over his head, some of them with dollar bills folded into flower shapes -- he hugs them all, one by one, thanks them for coming, tells them ( sheepishly ) that he loves them, but only if they say it first. he fist-bumps a few of his younger cousins ( are they actually related, or just the child of a family friend? mika’s not entirely sure, but everyone’s a cousin in the thompson family ), and coos over his littlest cousin, who’s just barely old enough to walk and looks very confused by all the noise and motion around her. his father gives him a hug, tells him he’s proud of him, and adjusts all of his cords and leis; mika smiles at him and laughs quietly when he fixes the tassel on his cap. ( “ it goes on the right side, mika. did you forget to turn it during the ceremony? ” )

by the time he reaches his mother, he has to crane his neck to see over the accumulation of leis he’s gathered from the rest of his family, and he grins at her with a slightly overwhelmed laugh. she smiles back at him and takes a few of the leis off, holding them delicately so as not to crush the flowers. then, she pulls him into a hug, tighter than any of the ones from his aunts or uncles or cousins, and he lets out a heavy sigh as he wraps his arms around her.

“ i am so proud of you, mikaere, ” she presses a kiss to his temple, and he can feel the way her breath stutters, the wetness of her cheek against his head. she’s crying. “ ------i know it’s been hard for you. i know. ” and, shit, now he wants to cry, too.

when she pulls away, she places her hand on the back of his neck and presses their foreheads together, the same way a few of his uncles had just a few moments ago. it’s tradition -- he’s been doing it all his life to everybody in his family, but this time, it hits him somewhere between his heart and his stomach so hard he has to physically clench his jaw to stop himself from crying. he sniffles and closes his eyes, because he knows if he keeps them open, he’ll start bawling any moment now. 

( he leaves soon. in a few months, he’s going to be hundreds of miles away. and he never gave a single thought to ask his mother how she felt about it. )

“ you did it, tama. i’m so proud of you. ”