Closing a Chapter: Memories of Graduation

When I decided to share stories of my memories of graduation day, one day in particular stood out in my mind. I had other days that were standouts in their own right, from being chosen to speak at my high school graduation and leading the processional to sitting on stage. I was also recognized for being the president of my school's student government and received handshakes from every member of the Board of Trustees when I graduated from community college.

However, the graduation I choose to remember now was a day in which I received neither honor. Rather than focus on a day in which I received attention beyond another graduate, I wanted to recall a day in which the honor was not one that drew attention from dozens or hundreds of people.

On May 26, 2000, I prepared to sit in a sweltering Cole Field House at the University of Maryland among other graduates from the College of Arts and Humanities, standing up when the graduates from that college were asked to do so. Afterwards, I went with my then-roommate and his parents to McKeldin Mall for a reception honoring the graduates. Later on, I would walk across the stage at the English Department graduation and then sit in the audience to watch my roommate and several friends graduate from the College of Journalism in the same building.

Before the individual college graduations, however, we had the traditional photos standing over the "M" near the entrance to the university. And when I came across the car my roommates parents drove to get to graduation, I saw a balloon and card sitting in the back seat. Thinking it belonged to my roommate, I didn't pay much attention until I saw the name written on the envelope. Mine. The surprise with which I opened the card soon turned to a pleasant disbelief the likes of which wasn't a complete stranger to me, but left me awash in a warmth that's been difficult to match.

I had plans to go out with a friend of mine for a quick celebration after the journalism graduation was done, but my roommate's parents had other ideas. They invited me and my friend to a graduation dinner with them and their son. We agreed, then before I knew it, the five of us congregated in our apartment to plan the outing.

My roommate's parents asked him where he wanted to go for dinner and he didn't have a very strong preference. Had they asked me first, I would have quickly deferred to him to make the decision. However, his father sidled up to me and asked me in somewhat of a stage whisper "when was the last time you went to the Olive Garden?" not knowing that would have secretly been my choice. When I told him I didn't remember he announced that I'd just vetoed his son and we were going there.

Before I knew it, the five of us were packed into a car and were driving to Olive Garden. The meal was delicious, of course, but the part that got to me was when my roommate's father raised a toast. "To our graduates." I raised my glass, but spent several minutes processing the stunned feeling I felt when I focused on the plural. They weren't just recognizing their son. They were also honoring his roommate and former classmate.

Even though that roommate and I no longer speak, the memories of that night still give me cause to smile 11 years later.