St. Bonaventure's class of 2016 circled around the Burton, arms around one another, singing Piano Man and multiple other songs until 2:30 a.m. after graduation. St. Bonaventure's class of 2016 polished off so many bottles of Fireball in that one night, even the bartenders were impressed. St. Bonaventure's class of 2016 cried together, hugged each other, and reminisced the times we all lived with each other.
St. Bonaventure's class of 2016 is my family.
The week before graduation had to be one of the most bittersweet weeks in our lives. We lauged with each other while floating down the highly-polluted Allegheny River on poorly-equipped rafts from our beloved Wal-Mart. We drank from an open bar on the dining hall's lawn with the professors that helped us along the way. However, in the back of our minds, we knew that once this week was over, we had to say goodbye to the life we grew accustomed to.
Yesterday was that day.
My roommate and I cleaned the apartment for the new tenants (and so we get most of our security deposit back). We packed up our rooms and our two years of memories in that place. We stuffed our rusty, old cars with the crap we are used to seeing around our little home. We put our keys on the counter, looked around, turned off the lights, and said goodbye to our home.
Our friends walked over, already teary-eyed, for one last hug as neighbors and housemates. The lingering thought in our heads, never spoken, was: after this moment, the friends we are used to being two doors down, or right across the street, will be spread across the state and country. Then, the real sinking feeling came in.
As weird and dramatic as it sounds, it was almost like being broken up with. The tears in your eyes, the lump in your throat, and the sinking feeling in your stomach. We were breaking up with the home we have known and loved for the last four years.
And, then, it was time for one last drive around the beautiful campus. It was impossible to not be flooded with the memories we made on every inch of that ground. Everything, from moving into our freshmen dorms to the Spring Weekend blow up obstacle courses, came rushing back and forcing more tears to fall from our eyes. I guess it is a fact of life: once you are about to leave a place, its beauty becomes more evident than ever. The beauty at Bonaventure is more than the appearance; it is the way of life. It is the smiles around campus. It is the Franciscan messages etched on the buildings and subconsciously sinking into our minds and souls. And, as we all say, it is the people.
Once I got back to my hometown, still not completely sold on the idea that I said my final goodbyes to those four years, I scrolled through my Instagram, liking photos from graduation. I stopped to read a quote from one of my favorite writers, R.M. Drake. It said:
"We must always welcome the end of all things. For sometimes, knowing nothing lasts forever, is the only way we can learn to fall in love with all the moments and all the people that are meant to take our breath away."
I blinked away the tears, convinced this man knew I needed to read that. During Senior Week, that is exactly what we were doing without really noticing. We were enjoying the company of the people who share the same permanent address as us. We were enjoying St. Bonaventure University for what it was, what it is, and what it will always mean to us. We were enjoying the beers, the bars, the campus, the class of 2016, and our forever family.
Go Bonas.
