Rachel demanded a blog post of me.
I cling to my last months here in the comforting, challenging, nurturing, difficult, safe and demanding environment of Mama Baylor.
There is so much to take in on a bike ride home while campus prepares to welcome back former students like myself.
Boys toss a frisbee by the engineering building.
The library parking lot, for once, has emptied.
Puddles are drying from the interminable monsoon.
Couples walk hand in hand, probably hoping to find a swing. (Good luck.)
Fountain Mall is covered in sand to protect it from the upcoming bonfire.
Chamber dutifully sets up tents.
My bike is the only one on the rack in front of the SUB since the street will soon be cleared for the parade.
The bookstore is full of green and gold.
People yell across 5th street at one another, and I smile as I pass Lady and Joy.
I ride to Memorial over the grey bricks, quite satisfied at the squish-squish sound my wheels elicit.
Ah, Memorial food. The salad bar and taking as many apples as I can to feed Rachel’s crock pot.
Alexander is decorated for homecoming. (Maybe the HRC will win this year!)
I ride past people gathered for a Thursday afternoon chat on the Memorial porch.
Oh, my heart aches as I realize how soon I must leave this place!
Four years seems so short a time in this place of love, friendship, newness, tradition, and learning. It seems just weeks ago that my eyes first glanced on the towering columns of Memorial and the sweeping roof of the BSB. Why, o graduation, do you seem a curse?
Yet as I turn to leave the honors quad, Pat Neff rings out, “That Good Old Baylor Line.”
O, that good old Baylor Line.
We’ll march forever down the years, as long as stars shall shine.
The lessons I have learned here and the friendships I have made will not die. Though I sometimes feel like I’m burning the metaphorical candle with every wick I can find, I’m trying to live life to the fullest. As I write, Chris Rice sings, “Every day is a gift you’ve been given; make the most of the time every minute you’re living.”