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Graduation is supposed to be a good thing, right? Then why do I feel like I may start weeping helplessly at any moment?

My oldest daughter is graduating from high school Friday, and it’s killing me.

I know. I know. She can’t stay a little girl forever. I’ve told myself that 100 times, but it’s just not working. The strange thing is that part of my brain knows she’s ready.

She’s a confident, intelligent, responsible, beautiful young lady with a great sense of humor, and her mother and I couldn’t be prouder. College will be an unbelievable experience for her. She’s going to love it.

If I think about it logically, I am excited for her. But emotionally I’m a wreck. I can’t help feeling sadder and sadder the closer to the ceremony we get.

She’s like the lead singer of our household. She’s the one who adds the spice and excitement. I’m worried when she’s gone the rest of us will just sit around looking at each other, wondering what we should do next.

I know this is a big cliché, but it really does seem like only yesterday that she was a tiny little baby. It doesn’t seem like very long ago that we tucked her into her big-girl bed or the first time I let go of the bicycle seat.

I remember so many Sundays where she would clamor to sit in my lap in church and how absolutely adorable that skinny, stick-legged girl looked in those tiny soccer cleats and shin guards.

As she grew older, she started dressing herself and picking out her own clothes. I remember the first time she used her mom’s hair iron to flatten out all those gorgeous curls. I remember the trip to get her driver’s license. The beach trips, the pool, Indian Princess ... OK, I need to stop. I really am going to lose it at the graduation if I’m not careful. I’m the type of guy who cries watching “Andy Griffith,” so I’m probably already a goner.

I can’t help but look at her with a certain amount of disbelief. Disbelief that this child — who we used to bathe in the bathroom sink — is old enough to go to college.

I’m going to try and make it. I’m going to try to hold it together. I am going to set a goal for myself not to blubber and breakdown completely during the ceremony.

I mean after all, she’s not dying, right? She’s just graduating from high school. Next fall, she’ll be just a three-hour drive away. I can email and text her.

Anytime I want, I can call her. I can tell her how boring things are since she left and update her with what’s going on in High Point. She can tell me what’s happening at school.

I can tell her that I miss her and love her enormously.

And most importantly, I can tell her that no matter where she goes or how old she gets, she will always, always, always be my little girl.

I love you, Carson.

Contact Mac Lane at maclane@northstate.net.