Words escape me as I try to capture the essence of our Commencement Celebration in New York last week. The week passed super fast, yet in slow motion much of the time as certain images forever imprinted themselves on the fleshy tablets of my brain. There were so many deliciously special moments but this morning I am remembering moments that will always haunt me; haunt me in a good way; alchemize me and take me to the place that is the holiest of the holies.
The Pup captured a picture of the Christ Child as he turned into the long aisle up to the steps of Keating Hall that stopped and restarted my heart instantly: it was that little boy smile of his, long lost in the acquired vocabulary of smiles we all construct as we learn to successfully pose for pictures. The little boy smile reflexively reappeared after a long, long absence.
The Christ Child said that as the stage cleared, he looked up and all that was there were the two deans, with diploma in hand, smiling broadly and waiting for him. His named was announced and he went up the steps, crossed the stage , went back down another set of steps into a new reality, leaving the deans who have been so good to him behind.
I remember walking through the glow of the dimly lit Metropolitan Museum, the statuary all
smiling and happy, after the after-hours party in honor of the Christ Child.
I remember Mike The Bike Stud's stirring and beautiful toasts.
I remember Brian's dad kissing him soundly on the forehead, in unspeakable love and devotion, after Brian gave the welcome at Baccalaureate Mass.
I remember the rain, dear God, how did they get the Oregon rain in New York for Baccalaureate Mass?
I remember the sun; swear to God, it was like Santa Monica in the Bronx as 'Pomp and Circumstance' played and the seniors marched up the aisle and marched back down as graduates.
I remember the hot dog in the gym
at Fordham and the beer at Yankee Stadium; the roast chicken at Balthazar and the brunello and prosciutto on Arthur Avenue.
I remember the city streets each early morning and the tops of the newly leafed trees of Central Park, both silent in preparation of another day.
I remember looking around and seeing the faces, all the faces, of every one of the people I love the most.
I remember thinking, many times, I am rich, rich, rich.
JBelle
Bellemaison
The Kan 'EWA
The Pup captured a picture of the Christ Child as he turned into the long aisle up to the steps of Keating Hall that stopped and restarted my heart instantly: it was that little boy smile of his, long lost in the acquired vocabulary of smiles we all construct as we learn to successfully pose for pictures. The little boy smile reflexively reappeared after a long, long absence.
The Christ Child said that as the stage cleared, he looked up and all that was there were the two deans, with diploma in hand, smiling broadly and waiting for him. His named was announced and he went up the steps, crossed the stage , went back down another set of steps into a new reality, leaving the deans who have been so good to him behind.
I remember walking through the glow of the dimly lit Metropolitan Museum, the statuary all
smiling and happy, after the after-hours party in honor of the Christ Child.I remember Mike The Bike Stud's stirring and beautiful toasts.
I remember Brian's dad kissing him soundly on the forehead, in unspeakable love and devotion, after Brian gave the welcome at Baccalaureate Mass.
I remember the rain, dear God, how did they get the Oregon rain in New York for Baccalaureate Mass?
I remember the sun; swear to God, it was like Santa Monica in the Bronx as 'Pomp and Circumstance' played and the seniors marched up the aisle and marched back down as graduates.
I remember the hot dog in the gym
at Fordham and the beer at Yankee Stadium; the roast chicken at Balthazar and the brunello and prosciutto on Arthur Avenue.I remember the city streets each early morning and the tops of the newly leafed trees of Central Park, both silent in preparation of another day.
I remember looking around and seeing the faces, all the faces, of every one of the people I love the most.
I remember thinking, many times, I am rich, rich, rich.
JBelle
Bellemaison
The Kan 'EWA
2 comments:
I didn't 'walk' for my College graduation. Not sure why. I suppose I didn't see the significance...well, the truth is, I had to be in a friends wedding that very day. I weighed the importance of either, and being self deprecating to a fault, decided to never tell him that I skipped my own college commencement in favor of attending his vows.
Congratulations to the Christ Child! Your richness has no doubt enriched his life as well...a better legacy he could never ask for...
To he that has graduated: Live well, do good work, love and respect your fellow man, attend to the needs of others before those of yourself, and go through life with a smile on your face. In so doing, you will further the wealth that your mother and father have bestowed upon you. Peace.
What a marvelous post placing in words what was a shining series of moment in your life. Yes, you are rich!
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