Three years ago today, I graduated from college. Crazy, right? It’s been three years already! That can only mean one thing.
I’m getting old.
This is what I remember from that day.
I was the only one of my friends who went to the early chapel service. Everyone else went to the later one. I didn’t think that was a huge deal when my parents told me they wanted to go early. But I had to sit with the other graduates. Not with my family. There were a couple people I knew there, but it was still a bit of a bittersweet beginning.
I did something to my finger that morning. I was nervously cracking my knuckles (as per usual), and something weird happened. My finger swelled up at the knuckle. Weird.
The graduation ceremony itself was better. The sun was shining. The day was warm. Again, I didn’t get to sit by anyone I knew – we were alphabetical for the ceremony, by degree. So I was between two people I didn’t know at all. It was fine. But not what I imagined.
I was so sure I was going to trip while going across that stage. I didn’t. I graduated.
After the ceremony was a blur. I got pictures with all of my friends in their caps and gowns except my roommate. But don’t worry, we got plenty of pictures with her and everyone afterward.
I don’t remember anything else. I was a college graduate. I had a job for the summer, and a place to live, and a spot in a PhD program starting in August. I was going somewhere.
Little did I know that it would all fall apart seven months later. Little did I know that I would be lost for another year or so afterward.
But little did I know that, just over a year later, I would meet H. So everything truly does happen for a reason.
The reminiscence is bittersweet, as well.