Our daughter graduated from Cornell this weekend, a glorious, physically exhausting and emotionally fraught three days. It was blinding hot in Ithaca, and there were three, count them, three separate graduation ceremonies—convocation outdoors on Saturday with speaker James Franco (I confess I thought him a lightweight choice at first, but he was actually very good and spoke for the perfect length of time), the whole school commencement on Sunday morning, again outdoors, and finally the calling of names and handshake on stage with the dean right after, this ceremony moved mercifully indoors.
Then, in the middle of the ceremony the sky opened up, and rain poured down. And this wasn't some dainty little sprinkle, it was deluge, the kind you just surrender to and allow yourself to be soaked.
I did get some lovely photos of my girl marching into the stadium with her class, before the rain, her and her three main hotelie cohorts (she was a student at Cornell's Hotel School). I call them the hotelie dream team, there for each other from day one. I loved seeing them march in together, ending as they began.
And later, there were photo ops with our girl and her boyfriend, who also graduated this past weekend, he from the engineering school, a brainiac with a gentle heart, who looks out for my girl, as she looks out for him. There was something very sweet about them going through this rite of passage together, as their families looked on, beaming, proud.
Monday morning, the troops were joined by a couple of my daughter's friends, and we went for breakfast at Collegetown Bagels, which is an Ithaca institution. After, we went back to our girl's house and began packing in earnest. It was all very bittersweet, and then it was back to the city, back home, to begin the next chapter called "real life."
I realize this is a lot of detail that probably only matters to me, so if you made it to this point, thanks for that act of friendship. I guess I'll just end the record here. Except to say, I am so very proud of our girl.