Same Song, Different Verse

When my parents--all of them--flew up for graduation a few weeks ago, they asked me over and over if I had fully realized the significance of the event. I don't guess that this is terribly peculiar, but it did alert me to the fact that no one, peers aside, remarked similarly on my high school graduation. In fact, high school graduation in general was quite lackluster.

I guess it makes sense. The completion of high school doesn't mark much more than the completion of junior high in today's white collar America; the degree effectively affords you the right to go to college and nothing else.

But I'm getting sidetracked as you will find that I often do. The point I was trying to make is that my undergraduate commencement ceremony is supposed to mark the biggest leap of my life - the leap into adulthood. It's supposed to be scary, exciting, and basically everything else that my co-author (perhaps that's better than "she," only slightly less impersonal though) so eloquently described. That doesn't seem to be the case for me though, and I think it's because adulthood and self-sufficiency pale next to a decision I made three years back.

I too came from a small town in Oklahoma where you weren't anybody unless you drove a Camaro and hung out in the K-Mart parking lot on Fridays. I had a wonderful circle of friends, my entire immediate family, and a long term girlfriend--some might say everything--a short car ride or less away. I've never been one to be satisfied though, even with the best of situations.

So I packed up my life and moved to New York to seek my fortune (continuing the cliche motif). And I have to say, selfish as it might have been, I'm glad that I did. You see, you learn a lot about yourself when all you have is yourself. Most importantly, you learn that you can do it - whatever it happens to be. Armed with that, nothing, graduation or otherwise, can shake you.

I know that's not anything she's heard less than 400 times recently, but I hope it means just a little bit more coming from me. Not only because I'm usually right about everything in her life (and terrifically modest to boot), but also because I've been there; I know what it's like to question the decision when it's too late to alter it.

I won't tell you it's easy, and I won't tell you that your fears aren't justified. I will, however, tell you that it will be the single most important experience of your life to date.

And also that we, your friends, love you and will stand by you throughout.