I know "they" say that using dictionary excerpts to open a written piece is entirely unoriginal, but I happen to be obsessed with dictionary definitions. I never understood the importance of the thesaurus, when a dicitionary could empower you with a word's meaning, as in, here are more words to describe a single word and explain its significance. I love (loved?) analyzing a passage of literature and breaking one word down into a million different parts or being enlightened by a word's real definition, not just the semblance of meaning I unknowingly carried around through the years.
According to the dictionary, commencement is the beginning which makes it interesting as it comes at the very end. Perhaps the strangest part about it was the finality of leaving; for awhile after graduation I felt as though I had one more vague obligation to fulfill. But, that of course wasn't the case. With my exams taken and keys turned in and room cleared out and then degree in hand, I left and that was all. The end and the beginning at once.
Unlike any other day ever, graduation day left me feeling new and changed. The day itself was unexpectedly perfect. My dad made the long drive in from Wisconsin and took me to breakfast the morning of. We talked openly about the definition of success and what makes work meaningful. Before the ceremony, we took photos at the Delta Gamma lodge, wearing the world's ugliest hats (apparently modeled after greek academicians, you'd think they would've come up with something more attractive). It was perfect weather as we walked through a tunnel of familiar faculty faces to our seats. I stood on my tiptoes to see my dad and Brian smiling and waving at me from their seats, a moment I'll never forget. I was surprisingly nervous as the ceremony progressed from one speaker to the next and finally to the moment where I walked across the stage, very quickly. The rest is quite blurry as I finished what I'd come to do (it only took four years) and was ready to go eat. After snapping the photos above, we headed back home, stopping in Ann Arbor for a gourmet italian meal, my choice. The only time I cried that day (besides my near midnight meltdown when it was ALL over) was opening the small, cream colored box, a gift from my grandfather, a Tiffany bracelet with the inscription: May 11th, 2013 You Did It Love, Papa. I said goodbye to my dad and headed home where more gifts from Brian's parents and Aunt awaited me. It was a long, but important day, which still feels momentous, even after the fact.
