Graduation Days

It's finally starting to feel like we're actually done with school. When Travis finished all his course work back in December I reminded him that he had to attend graduation. No questions about it. Of course, Travis questioned it and didn't really understand why he had to go, especially considering the fact that you have to pay money to rent the oh-so-flattering graduation robe. I said something sage like, "After three years of Masters classes you deserve the moment of glory, etc." and he obliged.

When I was plowing through my final classes I kept looking forward to my moment of glory too. But after I took my last final in the beginning of April I checked out of school mode completely. Suddenly, there was nothing I could care less about then convocation. I wanted to move on with my life. I certainly never admitted these emotions to Travis because I knew he'd:
A. Be all too happy that I shared the feeling after I lectured on the importance of graduation ceremonies.
B. Try to convince me to not go to graduation, an argument I feared I might agree with
With my true feelings tucked quietly inside, we marched forward and eventually across the stages to accept our degrees.

Truth to be told, it was pretty anticlimactic for me. I'd been away from BYU for so long that I felt like an impostor on campus and only knew six people in my graduating class. Plus, my college didn't even have a reception afterward sending the message that my degree wasn't even important to them. The last BYU graduation I attended was that of my brother and sister-in-law and, to me, they seemed to know everyone, there was scrumptious congratulatory fare provided, and everyone in my family basked in the merriment. Mine, not so much.

There's a moral to my story. I think I got so caught up in the dream of hearty congratulations and hoopla that I lost sight of the fact that the real celebration should be inside me. Graduating from college was a big accomplishment for myself and that is enough. It's not about what other people think or say, it's about making myself happy and I did that.

My niece, Maui, and me harnessing our inner cougars.

Me and my sister sharing a crazy hug.

My momma, me, T, and T's parents.

This picture says it all. E could have cared less than to have been in any pictures that day. Consequently, he really isn't in any of them, excepting this keeper.

Me and T with the "Y" in the background.

On the other hand, Travis' graduation was a hugely proud moment for me. Even though it took us a while to figure out his funny robe and stole, he looked so accomplished in his finery that his, and consequently our, schooling felt final. I'm glad he went forward with attending his convocation, even if it was only for me.

It should also be mentioned that Travis' college threw a wickedly delicious reception (roasted red pepper hummus and fresh pitas anyone?) in the U's nicest restaurant, he got to keep his graduation robes, and they gave him a fancy pewter paper weight as a present. Granted we've never even used a paper weight, but should we ever need one we have a first rate specimen at our disposal.

Super T. Seriously, he's super!

T sat on the cushy chairs on the floor with the other College of Engineering PhDs and Masters and the Bachelors filled two rows of side bleachers. They slowly read the name of all the floor sitters, but for the Bachelors' graduation they set-up two tables and had two readers tag team the calling of the names. It felt like Motor Mouth Mike was emceeing.

So proud of my honey.

T and his parents.
(My mom was there too, but I just realized that we failed to get a picture of all of us.)

Both of us in robes at BYU.