Topic: Graduation

Finish Lines and Puffy Hats

Today started out dismally, but ended gloriously.  I trudged back to campus to prepare for my first day of summer school which starts on Tuesday.  I was annoyed to be leaving my family on such a gorgeous, 72-degree Saturday.  I signed up for nine credits over two summer sessions, which I knew was going to be challenging–especially while clerking full time.  When I arrived, swarms of puffy hats, flowing robes, and beaming guests invaded what would otherwise be a mostly vacant day on campus.  I felt some angst, wondering if I was going to be able to pull off working full time, parenting, being a good partner to my husband, being there for my ailing father, AND taking nine credits over the summer.  More than anything, I’ve wanted to be in a position to wear a puffy hat next May.  I replayed the promise I made to my youngest daughter, “If mommy works really, really hard now, she’ll be done next May.” 

A phone call from a law school buddy interrupted my misery.  He was on campus too.  We met in the computer lab, and I mapped out my plans for the summer and next year with him.  I am not much of a planner.  I am a doer.  A while back, when I as doing my first marathon, I refused to look at the course map because I thought that knowing which long hills were ahead would be a distraction.  I was only interested in the finish line, not about all the difficult terrain that separated me from the finish line.  My friend (thankfully), is a bit more calculated.  He ran some numbers and told me that loading myself up with credits this summer was not going to help me catch up on the residency credits I am missing since my switch from part to full time school.  He reminded me of the importance of maintaining a work-life balance, and by the time the conversation ended, he talked me into dropping one of my classes.  I felt like the rope around my neck had just been cut off…like whomever was sitting on my face decided to get off…like I could actually breathe again. 

I rushed home to my family, just in time to catch my husband pulling out of the driveway with the kids.  I parked my car in the garage, and got in with them.  We spent the afternoon at my parents’—in the yard I played in as a child.  We played softball, tag, drew pictures with sidewalk chalk and drank Turkish coffee under my Dad’s grapevine.  When I lay down on the grass with my three-year-old nephew tucked under one arm and my seven-year-old daughter tucked under the other, I felt like I might when I finally get my puffy hat.

In the meantime, after a long run and hot shower, I sit here so very thankful for my friend who was willing to stand up to my stubborn lack of planning and for the gentle reminder that there’s more to this journey than the finish line.   Having said all that, a May graduation remains in reach and so does my sanity. 

23 May 2009