Final Commencement

3:26:07

It’s been 10 years since I last saw you, and if you’ve been counting right, you know that this would be the month when I would celebrate my final commencement.

Yes, father. I had finally graduated college. Impossible as it would seem, with all the things we had to go through just to get me through school. But I had made it, father. No doubt about it. I had graduated with barely anything from you. And today was the day that marked that end.

I always dreamed of this day above all things, and it was much more magical than what I had expected. I went to the graduation hall clothed in a dress made out of my grandmother’s cloth and sewn by a generous neighbor (she gave me a discount on the labor expenses because I was graduating). You should have seen it. I chose the design myself. It was brown, dappled with huge beige flowers. It had a low collar that was cut just a few inches below the collar bone, and two semi-puffed sleeves that hang just below the shoulders. It was tied by a gold ribbon around my waist, and the rest of the dress flows freely and is cut just about a few inches above my knees. It wasn’t my dream dress, but it was just fine. I threw in a pair of white high heeled shoes and my aunt lent me her (imitation) pearl necklace and earrings just for the occasion.

We drove ourselves in a rented company van, along with the other real estate agents of the company where my mother and aunt worked. And as we drove, I thought of you, and of the dreams I had about this day. I had dreamed that you would be among one of the millions of parents, friends and relatives flooding the graduation hall. But with your graduation ticket in my hand, it would be more likely that you would never be there. And if you were there, then you must be attending your other daughter’s graduation. Isn’t it funny if I found out that we both went to the same university and graduated the same courses at the same date?

I want you to know and remember that I have become a realist the day you went away and never showed up in our doorstep ever again. I had come to believe that dreams remain dreams, and unless it was stated in your destiny, that dream is more likely not to come true. So I never did keep my hopes up, father. But still, I wished you were there to see me as I walked the aisle and climbed the stairs towards the stage, as the school rector took my tassel, moved it to the other side and shook my hands while saying ‘Congratulations”, as I stopped and smiled with my two chipped front teeth for the picture that proves I had graduated, as I walked back to my seat while stopping by some professors congratulating all of us personally, all with the Graduation Hymn playing in the background over and over like a worn out CD. You should have seen me, father, in my black graduation gown and cap adorned with a gold hood as I heaved a proud sigh and thinking that it had been done.

I finally graduated.

It was, among few that were documented here, one of the happiest experiences I ever had. It would have been really great if I graduated with honors, but even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’d still remain the average grader that I am because achievements only pressure me to keep up with the standards.

Keeping up to be a perfect daughter was hard enough. So why add more?

Happy as the occasion was, I was also feeling down and lonely. It was the first time I made real friends without anyone to intervene, and it felt sad having to realize the fact that it was all over. No more petty quarrels of which fast food to eat in. No more laughing out loud like crazy while listening to someone’s mishap. No more seatmates to cheat with *grin*. No more walks going home. No more talks about the unknown. No more name-calling of those professors who looked like in-humane monsters. No more rants about projects and deadlines and exams all on the same date. No more phone calls or YM’s about the same school stuff. No more fun memories. Only sad endings.

They were the three most cherished people I ever had in college. The first guy was my occult master, the second guy was my first real crush and the third girl was my work ethics twin. And it will be a very long time (unless I got struck with amnesia) before I forget each of them.

I didn’t cry when we separated. I’ve grown up accepting that separation is inevitable and I was able to cope with all the separations in my life, including yours. And I never want to make a fuss of turning soft right when I had this reputation of being rock-hearted (a nickname I got from my occult master). But deep inside the disappointment of shattered dreams had been evolving into regret and sorrow.

Graduation not only marked the end of a school year. It also marked the end of friendships, and the end of the cloistered life within the safe four walls of the school/university. It’s like you’ve been used to swimming in a swimming pool and then you find yourself at the shores of the wide, unprecedented ocean called Real Life. Its harsh, untested, and you can get yourself killed if you don’t know how to swim right. But you’d have to find your way through if you’d want to survive.

I’m out in the sea now, father. Watch me swim.