Anniversary

Anniversary

    Merriam-Webster defines an anniversary as “the annual recurrence of a date marking a notable event”.  I think that in general when one mentions the word anniversary, most people often think of a wonderful memory of a first date or wedding.  I would guess that unless you had a tragic event in your life the word anniversary does not evoke a painful memory when first heard.  

    I was very fortunate in my life to have two wonderful Grandmothers.  Both of them were instrumental in my life and shaped the person that I am today.  I find myself thinking of their advice on numerous occasions.  I often think of how happy my Grandmother Alice would be to know that I have been able to use a sewing machine to make things that do resemble what I started out to make.  Or how my Grandmother Dorothy would be amazed that there are some dishes that I can master in a kitchen.  When I graduated with my Masters, I could not help but think of their encouragement as I went through undergrad.  Both of my Grandmothers never doubted my ability - even when I did.  As I walked across the stage, I could feel their presence shining down on me.  

    I’ve attended three funerals within the last month.  As we walked the cemetery of the latest funeral, we stopped at Franklin’s Grandmother’s grave.  The grave read, “November 29, 2005”.  Franklin’s brother said, “It’s hard to believe that it’s been five years since Nanny died”.  This takes me back a week to a conversation with my Mother.  During our normal conversation, my Mother starts crying.  I’m clueless ... she couldn’t possibly be crying about what we had just said.   

    I’m at my parents house.  I can see through the window pane streaks of sunlight.  I go back around 15 years.  Under the window is my twin bed.  It holds a white and green checked quilt with a few scattered squares of a design with a little girl with red hair.  My Grandmother Alice made the quilt for me.  I thought it was the prettiest quilt I had ever seen.  The quilt kept me warm and made me feel safe - kinda like my Grandmothers did.  

    As the sun peaks through the window, I realize my safety blanket is about to leave me.  No longer am I a little girl and I am abruptly faced with the reality that my Grandmothers are not immortal.  Their death is a sharp realization that I’m on my own.  I don’t have them to guide me.  I’m not quite ready to face this loss.  But will I ever be?

    Both of my Grandmothers died in the winter.  They both died in the same room.  Under the window where my twin bed used to be.  I vividly remember the day.  The long weekend that ensued and feeling like the life had been sucked out of me.  However, I can’t figure out why my Mother is crying.  I don’t recognize the anniversary of my Grandmother Dorothy’s death.  

    I think about my Grandmothers on a daily basis.  I seek their guidance by following their examples.  I cry out to them in my dreams.  I pray they protect my daughter.  Losing time with them is my greatest disappointment in life.  But I don’t think about their death.  I have not visited their graves.  I don’t know what this means.  

    One of my dearest friends from college lost his Father last year.  It was such a difficult time.  As a friend, my heart broke for him and his family.  As a daughter, my heart realized my own fears of losing my parents.  We are approaching a year since his Father passed away.  Will that day define his memories?  

    I like the word anniversary bringing a happy memory to mind.  I don’t want to think about the day my Grandmothers died.  I want to think about the many days that they lived.  Or am I just still somewhat in denial?  Could it be that if I don’t think about it, it makes it less of a reality?  I mean, I know they are not here physically.  I know they won’t come back to this life.  But I hold true to my belief that I will see them again in Heaven.  So, do I need to remember the day they died?  Can it just be a season for me?  Can I just know that in winter I lost them?  Can I just be happy keeping them alive in my daily life?  Is it disrespectful to not remember the anniversary of their death?  After all, it was only a physical death and their spirit is still alive in me, in my memories and in special moments with my daughter.  

    Their death was a notable event in my life.  But it’s not an anniversary to me.  Every time I hear Amazing Grace I see their faces.  Every time the peach trees bloom, I smell my Grandmother Dorothy’s peach cobbler.  Every time I feel lost and pray, I hear my Grandmother Alice’s gospel sermon.  Every time ... every time ... every time ... not a day goes by that I don’t think of them.  Some days I cry, others I laugh.  But for me, each day is an anniversary of my memories with them.  And that by far outweighs the anniversary of their deaths.    

Graduation

Graduation

    I recently received my Masters degree from Clemson.  I remember as an undergrad I didn’t care to walk the stage.  It seemed a boring task for me.  But I was first generation in my family to graduate from college and it was important for my parents that I walk.  With my Masters, it was different.  I’m more mature now and I really put 110% into the program.  I worked hard for two years, sacrificing many things, including my family, to graduate with a 3.88 out of 4.00.  (dang statistics ruining my 4.0!!)  I wanted to walk.  I wanted to walk for quite a few reasons.

    I wanted my daughter to see me walk across the stage.  She was about two weeks shy of seven when I walked the stage.  I wanted that image planted in her head.  She knew the amount of work I put into school.  There were many nights that she cried asking me to put the computer down and read to her.  The 20-page paper was due the next day, I couldn’t put the computer down.  There were many nights that I cried thinking I took on too much, I couldn’t possibly be successful.  There were many fights with my husband as he had to pick up the slack while I did school work.  I wanted her to see how the hard work paid off.  I wanted her to have that feeling of pride as she watched her mother cross the stage.  I wanted her to recognize the importance of education and life-long learning.

    I was part of an online graduate program.  My cohort had the opportunity to meet on campus twice throughout the program.  I am still amazed at the mutual respect and collaboration that was built over the last two years in the program.  I made very good friends that I know will always be a part of my life.  We all worked so hard and while not all of us could make the December graduation, for those of us that did, it was an amazing experience.  We worked really hard as a team and to share that moment with them was invaluable.  It was important for us to be together and walk.  

    I’ve been asked numerous times how it feels to be a graduate.  I’ve been thinking about this since November when I presented my Masters Research Project and received such positive feedback from my committee.  I think that is when it hit me that I did it.  I made it.  I was going to graduate.  I can’t really explain how it feels to be a graduate.  I try to put into words how I feel.  I can’t find the words.  Suddenly, I am quiet.  

    I’m sitting in the middle of Littlejohn Coliseum.  There are hundreds of students with black gowns and graduation caps on.  I’m thinking about my life since I left Clemson 13 years earlier.  I made a promise to myself that day in December 1997 that I would get a Masters degree.  I wanted that for myself.  I wanted to know that I could do it.  I wanted to know that I was smart enough.  

    I started graduate school at USC straight out of undergrad.  I didn’t really know what to do so why not?  But the problem with starting graduate school with no real plan is that it just becomes a huge liability on your time and wallet.  And, let’s face it, for someone whose blood runs orange, I couldn’t possibly have a degree from USC and be proud.  So, I stopped school and went on with my life.  Always searching for that one program that would be the one.  

    I made the decision to leave my career at the top of my game.  I had exceeded and maybe even shattered everyone’s expectations of what I could accomplish at the company.  I made the decision because the career, while completely amazing and fun, took me away from home on a regular basis and my baby was suffering.  It was during this time that I found my graduate program.  It was a perfect fit.  I was very interested in the curriculum, it was family friendly, and it was through Clemson.  Finally, 10 years after quitting graduate school, I was beginning a new graduate program with a purpose and a plan.  

    Here I sit, in the middle of the Coliseum, looking around me.  My excitement boiling over.  The realization that not only did I do it, I did it damn well.  I look through the crowd till I find my parents.  Then I spot Ashton & Franklin.  It has come full circle.  My little girl is in the crowd jumping up and down, waving to me.  She sees me.  She sees me.  She sees me.  It hits me.

    Every feeling I have right at this minute (pride, accomplishment, relief, etc), is nothing compared to the pride I see in her face looking at me.  She is proud of me.  

    What does it feel like to be a graduate?  I made a significant, positive impact on my daughter and it feels great!