Francesca Rizzoli-Isles was irrefutably her mothers' daughter.
She had the grace of Maura; her speech was crisp and poignant and languages rolled off her tongue with ease. An eclectic assortment of clothes hung in her closet, many from the family's travels, all of vivacious colors and soaked in worldly cultures that Chessie had taken it upon herself to learn about prior to the clan's explorations. She was very much her mother in that regard, in the sense that Chessie absolutely could not go anywhere or do anything without first thoroughly researching and preparing.
That wasn't to say she had not inherited the adventurous side of Jane. Chessie was the first off any tour bus, the first to dive off a cliff into the crystal blue waters below. She had accompanied Jane on more patrol rides than Maura was comfortable with. Her sense of curiosity was insatiable - a trait she knew she had gotten from both Jane and Maura, given their line of work. There was not a challenge Chessie did not accept or a battle she had not won.
And neither Maura or Jane could be any prouder of their little girl.
Beside Jane, Maura dotted her eyes and smiled proudly up at the stage where Francesca stood, her deep, chocolate brown curls pulled back in a loose, but elegant, bun, her face framed with thin tendrils. A black graduation gown hung on her small frame. She smiled at the audience, her lips an apple red. As she spoke, chills ran up both Maura and Jane's spine; this was it. This was their baby, all grown up.
Jane slipped her hand into Maura's. How had 18 years gone by so fast? How had Maura and Jane gone from struggling friends to parents of a high school graduate? It was mind boggling, it was insane to even think about - had that all happened? Had they really survived? Through death, through anger, through pain, through suffering - had they really done it? Was this their reward for all of what they had been through? Paddy? Hope? Jane's parents? The bullets, physical and emotional, that had seared them all?
A tear fell from Jane's eye and soaked into her dress pants. Maura looked over, aware of Jane's hand gripping onto her own tighter and tighter, and she smiled at her wife of nearly twenty years. Her wife, her soul mate. Her everything. Jane looked back at her as well and leaned in, kissing the corner of her mouth and pulling back, diverting her attention back to their daughter just as the last of her speech concluded.
"If there is one thing I have learned growing up," she said, looking out towards the audience. "It is that through pain and suffering, we find happiness. We find the meaning of our lives, of this life, in our greatest failures, in our most hopeless times. We all take away something different from high school. We all have different experiences. I have made friends, I have lost friends. I have been bullied, I have said things I am not proud of. And I have talked to you today about moving forward in our lives and doing great things, but I cannot end this speech without acknowledging what has brought me here to you today.
I am the daughter of two women. To some of you, that is impossible. To some of you, I, as well as my parents, are abominations. To some of you, I have not parents, but I have monsters. But I am here to tell you, to stand before you, to scream at the top of my lungs: me, everything I am, is a part of them. I stand before you because I am the product of pain. I am the product of suffering. I am the product of failure. I am the product of hopelessness. I say this not as a bad thing, but as a beautiful sentiment. My parents have suffered and in their sufferings they found great happiness in each other and that happiness is what brought me here to you. It is what makes them the very best parents any child could hope for. Parents that encouraged my inquisitive nature, fed my hunger for knowledge and culture, and taught me not what to think, but how to think.
And so I end this speech as a message to you all. Allow yourself to feel your pain. Embrace it. Do not bury it and do not hide away. Accept your pains and your heart aches as though they were friends, because in that pain, you will find something beautiful. You will find the truth. You will find your heart.
I say all this to you because I don't want the last thing you remember from high school to be a math formula or the year America became a free nation. I want you to remember that you have barely scratched the surface. I want to remind myself that my life is just beginning. And I want all of us here today, parents and students and friends and teachers alike, to remember that life is a gift and to not embrace every aspect of it would be a fate crueler than death itself.
So go out into the world. Live through your pain. Love. Be accepting of others and be accepting of yourself. I wish you all the best of luck, and to be honest, I hope in twenty years none of you remember this speech because I don't want this to be the highlight of your life.
And to my parents: Ma, Mom. Thank you. Thank you for believing in me, for loving me, and most importantly for loving each other."
Francesca smiled at the crowd and stepped away from the microphone. A roar of applause followed her and in the crowd, clapping the loudest, were Jane and Maura, each with fresh tears in their eyes. Maura leaned into Jane, giggling in giddiness, unable to tear her eyes away from her beautiful daughter still standing center stage. The principal crossed and shook her hand, turning her tassel and giving her a congratulatory smile.
"That's definitely your kid up there, Maur." mumbled Jane.
"That's definitely our kid."