Graduation

So Thursday all my family came in except for my grandparents. They drove from Florida and every time they felt like stopping Grandpa would stop there for the night. So they stopped in Newcomerstown, which is 50 miles from Gambier and came down the next day. James the Lesser signed in my family, which my Dad thought was hilarious. It was the first time they had met. I didn't see Roger once, even from afar, which was good.

On Friday we had the Baccalaureate ceremony, and Mr. Lentz was the keynote speaker, having been voted on by the senior class for it. As soon as he started speaking about Paradise Lost and Thoreau, I started to cry, because it occured to me that this was the last time I would ever get to hear him talk about "literatoor". Then he talked about his alcoholism and leaving the college last semester to go into rehab. I knew about it, but lots of other people hadn't known that that was why he was gone. I was shocked when I heard about it, because my image of an alcoholic was someone who'd sleep all morning and beat his kids, not someone who taught an eight o'clock class and one of the most courteous people I know. All my favorite men except for my Dad are recovering alcoholics-both my faculty advisors and my favorite uncle. It just frustrates me that these good men could be in servitude to an addiction like that. I thought he did a good job of relating it to grace and the graduates. He asked for our forgiveness if he had ever done anything while under the influence to us. He had no need to apologize to me, at least. He was the best teacher I've ever had.

Then we had the faculty receptions. I wanted to spend as much time as possible at Classics and as little as possible at English, although English is my major. Mr. Lentz wasn't there when I was there, which was disappointing. Then we went to Nu Pi Kappa to the Classics reception. I was watching Dad to make sure he behaved himself, but all of his jokes were appropriate, although he did go on about his war experiences, but it seemed like people wanted to hear them. Dr. Bennett did blurt out "My God, you look like you're 19" to my mother, but the older she gets the less she minds looking young. Mom said she felt like she was the one meeting my family. I'm going to miss the Classics professors, Bennett and Serfass most of all.

Then Friday night I worked packing. Mom was horrified when she saw my room and packed for me for a few hours until I threw her out. She packed all my books which was so traumatic. Then I left and wandered the campus. I saw some seniors digging a big hole near Middle Path, and they told me they were putting a time capsule in. I went to Amy's room and she had me sign an autograph book for her, because we're all certain that the yearbook is never going to come out.

Saturday morning I got up bright and early, and everyone in my family came by to make sure I was awake. They all said I seemed like the type to sleep in and miss my own graduation. I realized that I had no black flat sandals, so I had to wear the ones with two inch heels. Mom helped me pin my cap on because I was freaking out. Then we had about an hour of waiting on Middle Path to get everyone in line alphabetically. The ceremony went by fine. I was filled with love for all my classmates, at least for the length of the ceremony. They read everything but our names in Latin, which even my crusty old Latin professor objects to, "Since they don't require Latin to be taught". I giggled at International Studies, which to my mind translated as "wandering around the place". When my name was called, I was so nervous I couldn't hear anything and the only thing I could focus on was not tripping. Daniel and Heather showed up from NYC and gave me a hug just before I got on stage.

I kept thinking I heard thunder during the ceremony, but it held off until just after. I saw Shutt and told him to take care of Kenyon for me, and Robbie gave me a carton of candy cigarettes, which was really cool. They have to be called "candy stix" now, because candy cigarettes are illegal.

Then I packed up the rest of my room, returned my p.o. key and the other keys, my cap and gown, and dropped off a book Professor Bennett lent me a few months ago, and I was off. I don't know when I'll see Kenyon again. All my friends told me to visit next year, and I will try. It really became home for me, in a way that even Farmington never did. Kenyon was my family for four years, and even though I struggled so much these last two years, I'm going to miss it mightily.

Everyone does this and it's so corny, but farewell old Kenyon, fare thee well.