Bent Words

Bent Words

May 01, 2008

It seems the timing in my world has always been poor. What Iíve really wanted slips by me like a grade school summer Ė just as I was beginning to enjoy the sun, itís gone.

While I should know better than to mourn the loss, I sometimes cannot help but linger under the weight of what was so worth holding onto.

And here I am, trying to keep my voice down about it all.

But if you can keep a secretÖ

In eleven days my class will walk in elevation, adorned in caps and gowns, amongst the noble and triumphant, in the footsteps of those who have walked before them. They will cross the lawn of the elegant Carroll College campus, recognized no longer as students of an institution but as victorious graduates.

Their praises will be sung by a chorus of bagpipes, their professors cheering in unison, their friends and family posing perfect pictures. Whatever trivialities were suffered Ė the inhumane establishment of Saturday morning classes, the relentless obscurity of professors past their prime, the dedication in writing a paper seven hours before itís due, the panic of a parking spot Ė will all be dashed in a single day, a single event, a red carpet rolled out for what will be the rest of their lives. A grand event for the class of 2008 will surely be enjoyed by all.

Save for one.

Iím what they call a second semester graduate. I wonít be finished in eleven days for I have yet to complete two required courses. Still, Iím supposed to be there. Iím suppose to walk with them, all those faces I never really got to know, all those dreams I never asked about. Iím supposed to act as though Iíve graduated though technically Iíve not. So Iím not going.

Besides, who will walk with me? My lifeís only cheering section will be MIA.

My mother goes in for hip replacement surgery in nine days. Sheíll likely be in the hospital for three or four days following the procedure. My father will be the main attendant during this period and for quite some times after and I will happily pick up as much slack as my little slack picker uppers will take. Here I have no regrets for nothing of me comes before the health of the two people I adore most in the world.

But, for just a moment, Iíd like to wallow in what wouldnít have really been my college graduation.

Written at 12:22 a.m.