WE HAD big decisions to make. Sitting on the steps of the Rotunda after a quick trip to the Lucky Seven one night last month, my friend and I tried to sort it all out. College, graduation, where to go to graduate school next year. We looked out across the silence of a week-day night on the Lawn to the purple lights of Old Cabell Hall and ...
And what? Hmmm ... A good moment, but not the right one ...
Stepping out of the Northwestern University tour bus on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago, I felt the sleet and freezing rain bite my cheek. I turned toward the Chicago newsroom where I was considering spending a year for journalism graduate school. Then it hit me. I wanted to go home. Back to the brick Jeffersonian architecture, the boys clad in khakis and button down shirts, and my friends back at U.Va. in Charlottesville.
Well, true. But still not right.
I was frantically trying to finish a paper for my Shakespeare seminar with only a half hour until class and ...
That's definitely not going to work.
Ever since I began thinking about writing this graduation column, I've been wracking my brain in a vain attempt to come up with the perfect moment to sum up my four years of college. I read columns from past years, I brainstormed with friends, I watched a whole lot of TV, and finally I stared at a blank computer screen. I kept thinking that after four years, I should have some overarching theme to my life. When I couldn't think of one, I began to get nervous. What had I done so wrong with my time here that I couldn't scrape up some meaning from a seemingly worthless chain of events?
But like most good things, it was when I stopped looking that I found the answer. There just is no thesis to this dissertation of my college life. My favorite memories were in the fine print -- where all the important stuff always seems to turn up.
While staring at my still too-white screen, I laughed, remembering the Final Roll party in the spring of my first year and the "Funkytown" drive back from Raymond Bice's house my fourth year with the Lancaster for Senate Committee. My memory danced to the sounds of the "semester of fun" kick-off dance party. A mental marker drew a picture of the meteor shower at Lake Albemarle and the sunset from a scenic view on the Blue Ridge Parkway my third year. And I relived getting to know one of my best friends on a road trip to Shad Planking for The Cavalier Daily.
Those memories, and the people that share them, are what I will take with me when I leave. And for that, I owe them these thanks:
First, to the fourth-year Tri Sigs. Thank you for never questioning the too-infrequent phone calls and for providing a much-appreciated support system. You have been a life-line to reality for me whenever I spent too much time in the basement of Newcomb Hall.
To the staff of The Cavalier Daily. Your dedication to the University, the paper and each other is astounding. I made some of my best friends in the once-dingy basement and gained the confidence necessary to believe in myself. For those of you who worked with me, thank you for an amazing three years.
To my family -- mom and Candice. Your words of encouragement made the difficult moments easier. Thank you for the phone calls, e-mails and cards over the years. I love you.
To the crew at 436 Brandon, Apts. 1 and 2. The cookouts, parties, Star Wars Nintendo battles and all-nighters created many of my favorite memories from college. Thank you for making me a part of your circle of friends.
To my friends -- Mike, Jenny, Corrie, Catherine and Kate. You each contributed something unique to my life over the past four years, whether as a neighbor, a boyfriend, a best friend or a big sister. Thank you. I only hope I've been as good a friend to each of you as you have been to me.
To Katie and Kelly. For both of you, thank you just doesn't seem good enough. You are my two best friends and have made college an unforgettable experience. I expect frequent visits to Missouri next year.
With that, goodbye is the only thing left to say. But first, one piece of advice to those about to venture past the mountains of Charlottesville. Take a few minutes, or even an hour, to sit back and relive your own favorite moments. Take a friend with you or just travel by yourself down memory lane. It is a trip worth taking.
(Lauren Shepherd was an associate editor and a News editor.)
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