Today I Graduated From College Graduation

For whatever reason, I seem to grow in increments of four years. When I graduated from high school and came to Georgia for college, it wasn't until near the end of my college career that I began to feel as if the old things of high school were passing away: the insecurities, the inside jokes, the teen angst...all were gradually replaced with...new insecurities, new inside jokes, and college angst. 

So I suppose it's only natural that today, four years after I graduated from college, I should finally feel the departure of the college years and the dawning of the newest era of my life. Of course I haven't had to deal with late-night study sessions, dorm life, or cafeteria food for some time now, but there are always the memories. "I wonder what so-and-so is doing now." "The so-and-so's just had their second baby." "So-and-so passed away in a freak accident." One of the up-sides of living in the same town I graduated in is that occasionally, from year to year, certain so-and-so's come back for whatever reason, and I bump into them in the strangest of places: the Dollar Tree, Wal-Mart, or a stoplight downtown. And usually after these chance meetings, I am beset with memories of bygone years: dance parties in the dorms, Christmas banquets with prom dresses and no dancing allowed, Burger Nights at the guys' dorm, late night walks and talks, and the ever-changing influx of freshman who thought they were the first ones to sit outside and strum guitars. This is usually followed with a reminiscent look through photo albums and me getting all choked up as I think of all the adult responsibilities I have now and how much I wish I had taken advantage of the freedom I didn't realize I had during college life. 

But today, it changed. Today, I bumped into two girls I had known in college, and we all recognized each other immediately. There were hugs all around, and the usual "How have you been?" inquiries. But then, one girl looked at me and said, "Remind me of your name?" How funny. We had seen each other every day for four years, we had talked and laughed in the library for hours on end, prayed together, and eaten cereal in the cafeteria when the catfish nuggets and chicken patties were too horrible for consumption. Yet my name eluded her. When asked what I was doing today, I replied that I was poking around while Jon worked. The same girl looked at me and said, "Remind me who Jon is?" "Jonathan Boyd," I replied. "The guy I dated all through college." And in that instant, I saw the recognition. The memories came back to her. She hadn't forgotten; we were simply covered in the dust of years, packed away in the attic of her mind.

I made a joke about having learned that Jon & I were commonly referred to as "Jancy" in school because we were never seen apart from each other, and they both laughed. We talked for a few minutes and then went our separate ways. And for the first time, on my way home, the memories were not accompanied by the familiar ache, the choked-up feeling in the back of my throat, or the disappointment of things not said or unaccomplished. College was a special time and one I will always cherish, but I'm happy now to box up those memories and store them for viewing only occasionally. Now it is time to move into the next step of adulthood, whatever that may be. Who knows what I may learn or what may happen in the next four years? But I know that each triumph, each failure, each birthday, each holiday, and each seemingly trivial day will continue to make me the person I was destined to be.