Fêted – Fated
I tend to blame myself. Maybe it’s that guilty recovering Catholic conscience. Whenever something bad happens (not far away, just close to me) I find myself scrutinizing my actions and role in the event and wondering where I made a mistake and what I should have done differently. Note — not wondering *if* I made a mistake, but *when* I did.
I’m about to graduate. Convocation will be a celebration of sorts (hence the fête). I barely remember my high school graduation which I had not intended to attend. 
At the last minute I was asked to do one of the opening addresses so I ended up going. I delivered a speech in French about cows or something ridiculous and I wore my low-top sneakers with candy cane socks. For various reasons my family did not attend but they are planning to come to this. I haven’t completely figured out how to assemble my children from 2 different schools at different ends of the cities in the middle of the afternoon. I have just over a week still to sort that out. I anticipate the entire experience will be anticlimactic. The speeches will probably be long and will not relate to my life. The kids will likely get bored. I don’t particularly feel connected to the university since classes ended. I’ve been back a few times for conferences but it feels different somehow. I debate not going because it all seems too complicated today. The work is done, the grades earned… is the ceremony really important? Why did I want to go back in March when I applied to graduate?
Part of me feels like I didn’t do all the things I should have. I know I worked hard, but maybe it wasn’t hard enough. This last year I did take it a little bit easy compared to first year. I didn’t accomplish as much as I did in the beginning. I wonder what I could have done differently and if it would have made a difference. I worry about next year and what comes after that.
Since finishing classes a few weeks ago I’ve been trying to reconnect with the friends I had before I went back to school. I did my best to keep these relationships alive while life was crazy but we’ve all been through a lot in four years and you can’t just resume. We’re not the same people. It takes time to build intimacy and connection.
Even at school I felt disconnected: I hardly saw the people from my program during this last semester. I didn’t have any women’s studies classes at all and as much as I loved my programming class I didn’t make any friends there. I miss bumping into my colleagues from school around campus. Even going back there like I have for a few conferences and events since classes ended it seems changed. I know it isn’t the campus though, it’s me. Like I know my undergrad is over and I’m in a different role there now. My identity is in limbo. I’m not an undergrad but I don’t yet feel like a grad student.
Working at home is wonderful but isolating. I don’t miss the assignments and the deadlines. But I miss the contact with grownups. Poor Rob has felt the brunt of this more than once when I’ve spent the day by myself. I’m trying to get out each day just so that I talk to a grown up — it reminds me of my days with little babies except this time I see it happening and am better resourced to stop it from becoming a problem.
I wonder if other people are celebrating or if they are worrying like I am. I think my readiness to celebrate came and went when I handed in my last exam (and I did have a fabulous dinner with really good *Ontario* wine). Maybe I should allow this to pass quietly while I get on to the next thing.