Despite these extraordinary and life changing developments, I maintained my strict daily routine at the university. I completed all of my final coursework and prepared for the upcoming graduation as if I were just another student.
Only a small handful of people knew the truth about my company’s massive success, and I preferred it that way for the time being. Professor Jenkins, who had watched my entire journey from that first research paper, could barely contain her immense pride.
“You should know that a major business magazine is preparing their annual list of influential young leaders,” she mentioned during our last meeting. I simply laughed it off, but secretly I was finally starting to allow myself to feel a genuine sense of pride in my accomplishments.
Against all of the odds and without any family support, I had built something of immense and lasting value. The validation I had sought from my parents for so long had finally arrived, but it had come from an entirely different source.
I had finally found that validation deep within myself. As the month of May approached, I experienced a very complicated mixture of emotions regarding my family’s role in my graduation.
On one hand, I felt immense pride in completing my difficult degree while building a billion dollar enterprise. On the other hand, a small and childish part of me still harbored a desire for my parents to witness this major milestone.
Three weeks before the big day, I mailed formal invitations to my parents and Kaylee at our home in Maryland. I included the official tickets for the ceremony along with a handwritten note expressing how much it would mean to have them there.
Then I waited for their response while checking my phone much more frequently than I would ever care to admit. The call finally came on a Tuesday evening as I was leaving the innovation center after a long day of work.
Seeing my father’s name appear on the screen sent a familiar and unwelcome flutter of anxiety through my chest. “Hello, Dad, it is good to hear from you,” I answered while trying to keep my voice as casual as possible.
“Jordan, we received your graduation invitation in the mail yesterday,” he acknowledged in his typical business like tone. “Yes, I was hoping that you and Mom would be able to make the trip up here,” I said while waiting for a congratulations that never came.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear my mother’s voice in the background asking a question. “It is Jordan on the phone,” my father replied to her before returning his attention to our conversation.
“Unfortunately, we have a significant conflict that weekend that we simply cannot move,” he stated firmly. My heart sank instantly as I asked him what kind of conflict could possibly be more important than my graduation.
