C'est finis
You have spilled my macchiato.
Three years of intense education wrapped up, and I feel both ecstatic and somehow sad about it. Anyone who has met me knows how much I love school. I love the rigorous back and forth of classroom debate with a teacher. I love the feeling of my mind expanding. I love developing relationships with people committed to intellectual growth and the grind of required readings I would never pick up on my own (I’m looking at you, Heidegger). These three years have been amazing. Also I’m tired. I’m looking forward to staring slack-jawed out the window for a couple months.
Thursday evening I attended the Honors Convocation on campus at Iliff. I received my degree program’s Academic Program Award that honors “the students who have demonstrated a significant commitment to and development with respect to the learning goals of the degree program and have the highest GPA (evaluated in conjunction with an analysis of the competitiveness of course credit load and number of courses taken for a grade).”1
While I was receiving that award, Cheetah ran for office in Student Council. She didn’t win any office, and she arrived after my ceremony. She did a great job (especially for a tween girl) of compartmentalizing her upset and enjoying the rest of the weekend with us.
Lima Bean sat beside me for the award itself. A family friend came into town for the graduation. I’ve known S for nearly 30 years. She drove an hour (one way!) to pick up Lima Bean at 3:00 so that he could be there for Honors Convocation. My co-parent2 picked up Cheetah after the election and drove her up for the end of the reception.
I introduced everyone to the professor with whom I studied Wesleyan Theology and popular culture. He gifted me (and other graduating Methodists) a copy of The United Methodist Book of Worship. It’s sitting on my desk now, and it feels unexpectedly holy to have been trusted with it. They also met the professor who taught History of the Pursuit of Happiness. Possibly one of the most influential classes I took, but I don’t think I wrote much here about it at the time.
After the ceremony, Lima Bean, Cheetah, and I left for our hotel. While we live only an hour from Denver, I had a secret surprise. Their sister, Eldest Daughter, made last minute arrangements to fly in for the graduation ceremony. She booked the hotel room because she was coming in late in the evening, and we didn’t want to waste any of our time with commuting. I told the kids that we had a hotel so that I didn’t have to commute back and forth to Denver over and over. Cheetah kept asking whether Eldest Daughter would attend the graduation, and I kept giving her vague, non-committal answers like, “Eh, I don’t know. It’s finals season for her; I don’t see how she could get away.”
We walked into the hotel room to discover that the staff had pushed a huge “WELCOME ELDEST DAUGHTER” message onto the giant TV screen. Both Lima Bean and Cheetah got very excited, but I shut it down, saying, “Oh no, it’s just that Eldest Daughter booked the room as a graduation gift to me.” Not exactly a lie ...
After Lima Bean laid down to sleep and while Cheetah was in the shower, Eldest Daughter slipped into the room. She stood quietly by the door as Cheetah left the bathroom while chattering about the order of the next day. Cheetah glanced in Eldest’s direction, kept talking, then interrupted herself with, “Wait, who-” while turning back to address the new body in the room. Her unbridled joy at seeing her sister standing there almost justified the degree program by itself.
Meanwhile, Lima Bean had drifted off to sleep. I tried to rouse him, and I even said, “Hey buddy, your sister’s here,” but he just grunted and slept on. Eldest went to him and shook him. He cracked open his eyes, looked in her face, said, “Hey,” and went right back to sleep.
Eldest turned around and came back to me, and we went over the schedule (again) for the next morning. Suddenly, Lima Bean sat bolt upright and said, “Wait a minute, was that ELDEST DAUGHTER?” and we all erupted into cackles. The whole thing was absolutely beautiful.
Friday morning, we woke and dressed at a leisurely pace, and we had breakfast in the hotel lobby. Eldest Daughter and Lima Bean went to grab Dutch Bros, and Cheetah and I went back to the hotel room. I dressed and grabbed my regalia, my phone, car keys, and room key, and we walked out to my car. The timing felt so smooth. The hotel was nine minutes from the graduation venue, and I had ten minutes to get there. I opened the car and set everything in the seat to free my hands for hanging my regalia. Satisfied that everything was ready, I shut the car door and reached for my phone, which was not in my pocket. Nor were my keys. Nor my room key.
I grabbed the car door handle, and it had locked. With everything inside. Phone, regalia, and keys.
Now I have had my fair share of crisis. I have endured my allotted unit of bad luck. I have practice at managing bad situations.
In this bad situation, I forgot everything I’d ever learned and started chanting, “Shit. shit. shit. shit.” with progressively louder and more hysterical intonations. Cheetah stared in horror and started filling in the gaps of my rhythmic profanity.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“It’s okay Mom, breathe.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“We’ll call Eldest Daughter.”
“Shit. The phone is locked in the car. Shit. Can’t do that. Shit.”
“We’ll get my phone from the hotel room.”
“Shit. Shit. Room key is locked in the car. Shit.”
I started to hyperventilate. I ran to the side of the hotel and tried to open the door to the lobby. Locked without a room key. Shit. Shit. Shit.
At that point I needed to cry but I could only pant. I ran to the front of the hotel, into the lobby with Cheetah on my heels, and straight to the front desk.
“Help me.” Gasp. Huff. “I locked my keys in the car.” Panting. “I am supposed to be there right now. My phone, my regalia. Everything is in the car. I’m going to miss graduation. Help me.”
The woman looked at me and said, “What do you need?”
Cheetah piped up. “We need a room key so I can get my phone.” They handed her one, and I put my head on their desk and heaved and sobbed while Cheetah ran to the room for her phone.
Eldest Daughter answered and told us to come out to her car. She had just pulled in. I started talking about breaking a window. There were some pretty nice-sized rocks lining the lot. Eldest handed me a mocha, ordered me into her car, and called the church hosting the graduation. She asked them to find my advisor from Iliff, Dr. Joo. Sam got on the phone, listened to the situation, and said, “Just bring her to the church. We have extras.”
Eldest Daughter drove me there, dropped me off, and then went back to the hotel to clear out the room and prepare herself, Cheetah, and Lima Bean for the ceremony. I walked in, and sure enough, they had an extra cap and gown that fit perfectly. I even had time to steam out the wrinkles before the photos. By the time graduation started, my breathing had normalized, and my heart was back to a reasonable rate.
The ceremony itself was beautiful. I had the honor to be hooded by Dr. Pamela Eisenbaum, who also honored me by being my thesis reader. Our commencement speaker, who wrote “Canaanites, Cowboys, and Indians,” delivered a wonderful address, and Dr. Hernandez’ charge to the graduates nearly brought me to tears.
After the ceremony, we took about a million photos with everyone we loved, and then we all went to lunch. After lunch, Eldest Daughter drove us all to the Iliff Campus, and I took pictures at the building and with the Iliff sign. Then we went back to the hotel and called a locksmith. Thirty minutes and many dollars later, I reunited with my phone and my keys, and we ended the day at the Lego store.
The day turned out to be a microcosm of the last three years. It started with expectations of clear sailing on a straightforward path. A crisis outside my control blew all that to hell. I fell apart. My family stepped in and walked through it with me, and my community made sure I had what I needed to make it through the moment. Once again I learned that I have no control beyond building a community of love. The same one that carried me through everything before this and that will stay present with me for everything that comes after.
I’m starting to toy with what’s next. But for now? I’m done.
Master of Theological Studies
I know, it’s kinda word salad. Basically, I won at school. 4.0 on a pretty tough set of classes. What does Barbie say? “I worked very hard, so I deserve this.”
I’ve been struggling with how to talk about him in conversation. Precision feels important here. I don’t like referring to him as my ex-husband because I find myself performing the injured ex-wife, and it’s just not useful and sometimes is actively harmful. That title has too much baggage for something that’s working as well as this is. Friend doesn’t cut it. Co-parent feels right for now. Accurate even if emotionally distant. Uh … story of our marriage.
Congratulations! doesn't seem adequate enough for this accomplishment in your life...
You are a "Lifelong Learner"; I feel you, I know you, I am you. I am currently on the path to becoming a Deaconess in the UMC, after having completed my Bachelor's in Music Therapy and my Master's in Worship Studies. "Shit" happens all the time, especially at the most inconvenient times, but we persevere & press on (like Paul). You are a living testament to a life of perseverance; keep pressing on.