“Ma! Over here.” Rory waved from a row of chairs near the front of the high school auditorium, ushering Dee over to join them. Clare was next to him, smiling brightly and looking stunning as ever. Middle age had barely changed a thing for the blond bombshell, only peppering her with a few stray silver streaks and fine lines around her eyes. Rory looked more and more like his father with every passing day.

Dee’s heart clenched at the reminder.

“Oh, I see them,” Quinn said, steering them in that direction. Her arm was securely looped around his elbow as she leaned on him for support.

Admittedly, she wasn’t the spry young woman she’d once been. Her bright red hair had faded to a soft gray with more strands of white than she’d like, and her skin was a map of blue veins that doctors pricked and prodded all too often. There was a hunch in her back when she walked, making her even shorter than she’d always been, and it all felt a bit strange. She didn’t feel old. She didn’t feel like a grandmother to sixteen grandkids ranging in age from a college graduate to a newborn baby.

It was surreal in many ways, but in others, it felt like it was always meant to be this way. There was nothing more she loved than going over to Clare’s home on Sunday nights for the family dinner they’d had every week for over forty years now. Dee wasn’t in the best health to cook for everyone anymore, but she worked with Clare and Fiona and whoever else pitched in to help that week. She attended every football game, karate tournament, or ballet recital that her grandkids were in. Every holiday was spent with a different son, rotating whose family she’d spend it with, or gathering everyone together in one big group.

Being around her family—her five sons, her niece, her sons and daughters-in-laws, and her grandkids—was the greatest blessing of her life. They were her legacy. They were the legend she’d leave behind when she joined her husband one day.

Quinn turned into the row where Rory and Clare sat next to their three youngest children—Brontë, Ciara, and Eve. The rest of her sons and their families were in the other rows, and it felt a bit like the Kavanaghs had taken one entire side of the expansive auditorium.

Dee got to her chair and paused for a moment, seeing that the seat next to hers had a reserved sign on it. On the seat was a picture frame with Seamus’s smiling face beaming back at her inside. She turned to her oldest son, tears already pricking her eyes.

“We wanted Pops to be here to see Murphy graduate,” Rory admitted sheepishly, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It just wouldn’t feel right without him.”

Dee nodded slowly, the lump in her throat holding her words hostage. She wasn’t used to being a widow yet, and she wasn’t sure she ever would be. But when she looked at their sons, she saw flashes of the man she’d been in love with for most of her life. “Thank you,” she finally managed to say.

Rory kissed her cheek, hugged her, then helped her sit down. She lifted the frame from the chair next to her and gazed at Seamus’ salt and pepper hair, the thick brows over deep gray eyes. He still made her stomach flutter after all these years, and her heart clenched with the renewed ache of her grief.

A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away.

As the lights dimmed and the graduation began, she replaced the frame on the chair, facing the stage. She wanted Murphy to see his grandfather there when he crossed the stage and gave his valedictorian speech. Seamus had been so damn proud of that kid. While Shea was actually their oldest, Murphy was their first grandchild in the biological sense, and he’d always held a special place in their hearts because of that.

The principal of the local high school made a short speech, a local official gave some advice to the graduating class, and a few awards were handed out. Then Murphy walked on stage to give his speech as this year’s valedictorian, and the room burst into applause.

People chanted his name, pumped their fists, and for a moment, Dee thought it was just her raucous family showing their support. They were definitely cheering, too, but the loudest noise was actually coming from the student body itself.

Murphy beamed as he walked to the podium in the center of the stage in his navy blue graduation cap and gown. The robe made his thin frame look larger, reminding her of how Rory had looked walking across the stage so many years ago. In truth, Murphy looked a lot different from his father. He was slender and spent more time in the library than the octagon.

Murphy was definitely a fighter—maybe the toughest in their family—but not in an athletic sense. He’d beaten multiple rounds of leukemia as a young boy, struggling with his health ever since due to the drastic side effects chemotherapy had had on his growing body. Not once had he let his poor health keep the smile from his face. Not once had she seen him buckle under the pressure of his diagnosis.

His health was in the clear now, but there would be medical struggles he’d face for the rest of his life. Dee was so unbelievably proud of him for all he’d accomplished under such trying circumstances. She was even more proud of his parents. Rory was an incredible father, and Clare, the most loving mother.

Tears pricked her eyes as her heart swelled with warmth for her family, for her grandson. Tassels swung around his neck as he finally stood in front of the microphone, different colors indicating different honor societies he’d been a part of. He cleared his throat, smiled broadly at the crowd, and waited for the applause to die down.

“When I was asked to be our class’s valedictorian and to stand before you all to give this speech, I was told to talk about my heroes, the person I want to one day become, and the path I want to take in my future.” Murphy paused and leaned against the podium. “But the truth is, I don’t know those answers. I have no idea who I want to be, or what my future holds. I don’t want to stand here and tell you all that you should know either, or that there is a path set before you and it’s up to you to succeed.”

Clare reached over and clutched Dee’s hand, smiling at her.

“In fact, I think you should go out into the world and fail,” Murphy continued. “Winston Churchill once said ‘success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.’ Those are the words I think we should all live by. My father was one of the world’s greatest mixed martial artists before I was born. He was also a huge failure.”

Dee glanced sideways at her son, wondering how he felt about that, but Rory was beaming proudly up at his son.

“That failure is what makes my father my hero. He reached a type of success few can ever dream of and lost it all due to an injury and alcohol abuse. He lost everything. He lost himself. He could have given up. He could have thrown in the towel, but he didn’t. He picked his life back up from the rubble, he met my mother, and he had me. Then I got sick.” Murphy cleared his throat and smiled sadly over at their row. “I was so sick for so many years, and at some points, it wasn’t clear if I’d make it. My parents could have given up, caved under the pressure, lost hope. They didn’t. Not once. And I watched them, so I didn’t either. When treatment after treatment failed, I kept going. Now I’m standing here, looking into the lens of the rest of my life, beyond the protective bubble of my parents, my insanely large family, my cousins, my school, my friends…and I can’t wait to fail. I can’t wait for all of us to fail, because the success afterwards will be that much sweeter.”

Clare’s shoulders shook slightly, tears streaming down her face. Dee could feel the wetness on her own face as well. Pride swelled in her chest, and she prayed that Seamus was up in Heaven watching their grandson right now.

“Congratulations, Woodlawn High School seniors. Go out into the world without fear. Fail. Get up. Fail again. Get up again.”

The auditorium exploded with clapping and cheers. Murphy smiled and tossed his graduation cap into the audience, then he lifted both arms in the air as he walked back to his seat.

Dee turned to her daughter-in-law. “Clare, oh, honey. You’ve raised the most amazing son.” She patted Clare’s hand, trying to keep the lump in her throat away. “He’s an incredible kid, and you’re an incredible mother.”

Clare smiled and nodded her head toward Rory, who was standing and shouting his son’s name in cheers. “I could say the same thing to you, Dee. Thank you. Thank you for giving me this family. Thank you for being the heart and soul of the Kavanaghs.”

The lump in her throat kept her from answering, but Dee smiled and nodded her head slowly, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Clare jumped up to cheer her son on stage, and Dee looked around at the rest of her family. Her children and grandchildren were all standing and clapping, supporting their own.

Dee lifted up the framed photo of her late husband and held it on her lap. She stared at his handsome face longingly. She couldn’t have done any of this without him. Without falling for his big heart and goofy grin all those years ago. As wonderful as her family was, and as happy as she was being around them, she missed her soul mate so incredibly that some days it felt like her heart had shattered. “We made a beautiful family, Seamus. They’re going to be just fine without us.”

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