Day 8: A Moment
Umm, not sure what to write here. What kind of moment? A special one or random one? I’ll go with my college graduation from Southern University. What a bittersweet time! Like most college seniors, I ran around campus screaming, “I can’t wait to graduate!” Our senior class even had shirts made for Senior Week with the slogan “F.U.B. I graduated!” Don’t break your brain trying to figure that out. And don’t judge us. I spent the last semester of school majoring in the school of B.S. I’d finished all of the my important classes, and my only concern was crossing Alpha Tau and graduating cum laude. I’m happy to say that I accomplished both goals.
Sitting among friends during commencement, instead of listening to the inspiring words of our speaker, we sent text messages to each other, called family members to help them spot us in the crowd, and we even bounced a beach ball around. I heard it’s tradition. I received my degree, my mama blew kisses at me as I walked back to my seat and the class recited the charge to take part in alumni association. It was over….but, they had to end with a prayer and the alma mater, “Dear Southern.”
Dr. Isaac ‘Doc’ Greggs took the stand and directed the band. As soon as the played the first few notes, the tears started to roll. This was it. School and life as I knew it for four years was over. I wasn’t ready to leave!! Sure, I had plans to attend graduate school, but it was just something to do. What in the world was life going to be like now? School had become home where I had family and friends. I was leaving everything I knew for such a long time. I was happy to move on, but sad to leave.
Bittersweet, indeed. I’ll never forget that moment.
Day 7: My Best Friend
Her name is Punkin. We’ve been friends since we were 12 after noticing that we were the two tallest girls in 7th grade. I don’t remember our first conversation. Actually, I didn’t like her in the beginning. She may recall a terrible “accident” I had while in Math class. Let’s just say, canary yellow shorts were the last thing I needed to have on that day. As I struggled to wrap my jacket around my waist and slowly disappear into thin air, I noticed students on the other side of the room (the desks were divided straight down the middle) staring with horror, while she, on the other hand was laughing. Bitch. We still laugh about that.
We had our only major blowout/fight that is a prerequisite for any junior high/soon to be long lasting friendship in 9th grade, I think. She wouldn’t talk to me at all. One of the guys came to me in gym and said, “Damn, ya’ll broke up. Ya’ll gotta get back together.” I said verbatim, “What the hell? Do we go together? Whatever.”
Well, a relationship should be a friendship, I guess. So through junior high, high school, letting the boys finally catch up to us in height, waiting for our moms to pick us up after school, new stepfathers, leaving for college, children and even sickness and surgeries, she’s still my girl. Her first-born is my godson and I love him (both of her boys) to pieces. Her mama is my mama and her family is my family.
That’s how it should be with friends.