“If you need help getting started, consider this prompt: write a short scene from your life. Try writing about graduation or getting married. Show us what it felt like to become a parent for the first time or to win the homecoming game. Grammar isn’t important (for now); instead, focus on repainting a scene for us.”
I already feel overwhelmed by this prompt–it’s likely that the most important day of my life hasn’t even happened yet.
Also, the only thing that’s happened to me so far of the listed items was graduating and I don’t particularly have any fuzzy feelings from early to mid 2012. I was in the midst of a pretty nasty bout of circumstantial depression my entire graduation week and I wasted almost the entire ceremony (where I should have been fully present) emotionally crippled because I gave the wrong person power to hurt me (lesson learned).
I don’t even remember walking across the stage, and I regret wearing high heels because I never wore high heels–not for the entire time I was at college. It was just the sort of thing everyone else was doing, buying ridiculously impractical heels for a 150 foot walk in front of our whole school and our peers. I wore them twice after that, I think. If that.
I just donate those beige heels a few weeks ago and it felt good.
It was like I got to kiss that whole season of my life goodbye. There was plenty of good stuff that happened around that time as well, but for some reason it’s easy to let the little bit of leaven ruin the whole loaf. I think I’ll throw out the loaf, though, and bake a new one.
Graduation day wasn’t even close to the most important day of my life, but it was an important day. I woke up on an air mattress surrounded by a mess of belonging from the Round 2 Baker Street Flat girls (Jenna, Chelsea and Lizzie). I was shaky and nervous and felt that sort of self-awareness that you get when you’re crossing a societal milestone–and you know it. It was fitting that Johnny and Cameron picked Jenna and I up to drive to the ceremony; we started the journey together as four junior transfer students back in 2010, and we’d managed to stay together over the next few semesters. We’d even managed to get Jenna to straddle the line and dabble in the film world with us, while still killing it in her social work world. I’m pretty sure none of us slept for our entire collective college career, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I don’t remember too many specifics. But I remember being really proud, like hurt-your-chest-proud, of everyone there. It was our film professors’ last time on stage to watch his little film minions walk, and there was all kind of emotions with that. I was surrounded by friends and classmates, and I knew my family was out there in the stands and they were proud of me. I don’t remember crossing the stage, but I crossed it. All those credits and late nights and caffeine overdoses and heart breaks and soul soaring moments later, and I crossed the stage. I got yellow roses and hugs that were really just hopeful “we’ll keep in touch” promises. I’m lucky because most of those promises have been kept for me.
I don’t deal in extremes (usually) (see what I mean?), but I don’t think there is one day that is more important than another.
I think they are all important, for different reasons, which you’re welcome to agree or disagree with.
But the joke’s on you, because I just made it to the end of day five! #nailedit