Fond Memories

I have whipped off my last paper, whether or not I have done it successfully is yet to be determined by Ben Faber, but it is done. That, folks, was the last paper of my undergrad. And as gruelling as it was to write on Northrop Frye's theory of archetypes, the feeling of my brain being stretched and strained is as rewarding as an eight minute abs workout.
But I still feel somewhat sad. Maybe it's the rainy weather, or Nabi Loney's music, but I have a hunch it's the overwhelming sense of finality creeping up and threatening to put an end to my undergrad. I'm pretty sure that's it.
See, with the abs workout, there's always a looking forward to the next one. With a final paper--there's no next paper to dread, or anticipate.

I think I'm afraid that I'll fail in the years ahead to push myself like I have this year. As much as I have been equipped with the tools to educate myself, I am stepping out of an environment that I love.
And so I'm torn between the love of being a student and the reality that I can't be one forever. Unless I'm Doug.
But so it is. Time moves on...a series of ends and beginnings, and we roll with it because we've been made to. There's no time to stop, and besides, I don't really want to.
A few days ago I said goodbye to my Opa. He died a week ago today--the first death in our family. I can't describe what it feels like to lose someone that's been a steady presence in my life. I know the right answer--that I should be happy, but my mind still can't make sense of the finality of it.
There's something very sad about it, even if I know that I, like my Opa, am moving on. And people tend to try and remedy my sadness by resurrecting fond memories, or by anticipating new, better ones, but it doesn't really work.
Thinking back makes you remember days that are gone, and looking forward only reinforces your awareness that you have to leave.

House 333, with Robyn, Trine, Ally, Kristin, Erin and myself, marks my family of fourth year. Ally left yesterday--the first 'breaking of the fellowship' and my Opa left last week. And it won't be the same again.

That's why I grieve. I know that I can still be happy, and I'm sure the future holds even more happiness than I've ever been aware of before, but that step involves leaving something, or someone behind that I hold very dear.

I'll miss them all, but I'll thank God for the fond memories.