Graduation is one of life’s most meaningful milestones. It marks the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifices, and persistence. As you walk across that stage, diploma or award in hand, you are not just celebrating your own achievement. You are also honoring the people who helped you get there, especially your parents.

For many, it is a shared triumph. But in my case, it has always been a little different.

Let me share something personal and honestly, quite painful. My father never got to see me receive an award on stage. Not once. He only had pictures and stories. When I was just four years old, he became severely paralyzed. From then on, he relied on a cane and eventually needed help from others to move around. His only wish at the time was to live long enough to see my eldest brother graduate from college. Thankfully, he lived to see all of us, his children, build our own paths and make him proud.

His only wish at the time was to live long enough to see my eldest brother graduate from college.

He lived with his condition for over 23 years until his body could no longer keep up. Old age and organ failure finally took him from us.

When I was applying for the Australia Awards scholarship, I took several flights alone. Each time, the empty seat beside me reminded me of him. His freedom to move was only truly given to him in passing, and in those moments, I could feel his presence quietly beside me.

When I returned home to the Philippines last December, one of my top priorities was to visit his resting place. But days turned into weeks, then into months. Life kept getting in the way. Work responsibilities increased, and I found myself adjusting to being back home. I also started planning to return to Australia for my graduation ceremony this May. In fact, that graduation is today.

Those plans did not work out. And somehow, deep down, I felt like my father had something to do with it. Not in a negative way, but in a spiritual one. Maybe this was his way of being there for me in the closest way possible.

His freedom to move was only truly given to him in passing, and in those moments, I could feel his presence quietly beside me.

So today, I visited him at the memorial park. Alone. I brought my diploma: Master of Transport, The University of Sydney, with Distinction. I told him about my journey, the obstacles I have faced, and how I am still eager to make a positive impact in the world. I asked for his spiritual guidance, for his prayers, and for strength to maintain good health. I also admitted that I have been spreading myself too thin lately, trying to do everything at once, sometimes forgetting to care for myself.

He reminded me, without saying a word, to slow down and take care of what matters most.

To those of you who still have your parents with you, appreciate them. Be patient with them. Whether your relationship is smooth or complicated, remember this: they are proud of you. Always. Even if they do not show it, their hearts never lie.