She credits her decision to pursue a doctorate to the encouraging influence of several Colby-Sawyer faculty. “Colby-Sawyer gave me a great springboard.”
Pastoral Psychologist Barbara Livingston '82
“Your mind is a blank slate—life experiences write on it.”
My friends and family have held the markers to my knowledge
for eighteen years. I was born and raised in a small town. Having
my group of friends since junior high, my fellow athletes,
coworkers and family, life all bundled into a little place I call
home, Pembroke, Mass. Life moved along in a straight line until
that dreaded word “college” became a reality.
College was just one of those “future” things, like “someday
I'll be married and have kids.” My sisters and friends have
come and gone, but the idea that I would someday leave and go to
college just wasn't realistic. But then there we were, slapped in
the face with this realization. All huddled around the fire eating
smores and talking, this had come to be our practically four-nighta-
week ritual. It was a lot to handle, as the three months of summer
suddenly became one last night. The summer we thought
would last forever, didn't. It seemed ironic that we began and
ended the summer the same way. “Ended,” key and frightening
thought. It was a thought avoided and pushed aside in conversation.
Each one of us had it in our mind and pushed back into our
thoughts though it was on the tip of our tongues and wanting to
be shouted out. How quickly the days and nights had passed and
now it was Aug. 18.
On Aug. 18 the group would have to face the first member
leaving to go to college. That night everyone gathered at Michelle
and Maureen's house to say goodbye to Michelle. Although identical
twins going to the same school, Michelle was leaving almost
two weeks early for preseason soccer tryouts. They all came
together at what had come to be a common gathering place
throughout the summer months, they once again made smores and
enjoyed that last night, what they all knew was the true beginning
of the end of their last summer prior to college. Many nights had
been spent around the fire roasting marshmallows and making
smores. Tonight was a special night for Ashley and her friends as
this would be the last time they all were together, still living at
home. From now on, whenever they saw each other, it would be
while visiting or on break. The mood was tense with confusion
and awkwardness. No one was quite sure how to act. Some had
almost another month while others were leaving by the end of the
week. All Ashley knew was that this would be the last time they
gathered and wouldn't be missing someone.
Here it was Aug. 18, 2002, my golden birthday, finally the
big 1-8. I'm usually the type to celebrate my day and spend these
24 hours completely dedicated to me; this is my time to get what I
want and feel ok devoting time to myself. I spent this day, however,
not celebrating myself, but celebrating the imminent arrival of
my nephew, Ryan, and the departure of one of my best friends,
Michelle.
Looking back, the entire night passed in slow motion. As I
pulled up to the house that I had grown so accustomed to, I let out
a deep sigh preparing myself mentally for the night I was about to
encounter. This was it—our last summer night all together. Soon
the college process would begin to take over, and we would leave
one by one. This process would start with Michelle in less than 12
hours.
As I approached the front yard I had to make my way
through a crowd of adults, neighbors and relatives of Michelle
and Maureen. Their father called to me as I got within earshot,
“Hey Ash!” He is one of the only adults who calls me Ash, but I
like it. It's a term I have learned to love; only my closest friends
use it and usually in a caring manner. Parents like me. I don't
know why this is, but it's true. Parents adore me. I was the kid
whose car the parents always wanted their kids in. I was the kid it
was ok to be out with late at night. Sleepovers, late nights, no
questions asked. He stopped me and gave me a hug. “Thanks for
always being there for the twins. You're friendship has meant a
lot to them over the years.”
“Thanks, or you're welcome,” I stumbled out. I didn't
really know how to respond to a compliment or “thank you” like
that.
I walked through the yard to the side of the house until the
campfire came into view. I paused for a second and looked around
the circle. Seeing all my friends made my stomach jump knowing
this would be our last time all together awaiting our college relocation.
We all knew this day was coming but it wasn't something
you can fully imagine. The emotional feeling, like a kick in the
stomach, of being in a new place and having to lose all your best
friends and everyone you know all at once was too much to grasp.
This idea had been thrown into the back of my mind all summer
and now it was coming forth and I had nowhere to hide it.
Watching my friends sitting around the fire, some roasting
smores, some moving around, but all laughing and listening
intently to everything each one had to say. Michelle glanced over
and saw me standing there. “Hey! Rash!” She yelled as she ran
over to greet me and gave me a big hug.
“Hey Mick.” I returned in a cool, calm manner.
“Are you ready for this?” She asked me.
“I don't know,” I said, “but it looks like we have no
choice.” I put my arm around her and we walked over to the circle.
We made smores and had our usual discussions, while
avoiding completely the topic of Michelle leaving in less than 12
hours. Words of encouragement were the only hint of something
happening. Other than that, it seemed like any other summer night
sitting by the fire. In reality, however, the avoidance of the subject
made it weigh more and more on everyone's minds. As the conversation
drifted to the savior topic of weather, I knew it was time
to get out of there. It was only about quarter of ten when I told
Michelle I had to leave and we walked to my car.
“It won't be long, I'll go to all your games and we'll talk
all the time.” I'm saying all this to her, and I wonder if she's buying
it. I am lying to myself but I know it, so it's ok. I'm always
the strong one; I have to be strong now too. As I hug Michelle,
she starts to cry. I bite my lower lip and repeatedly tell her,
“You'll be fine, you're gonna make lots of friends and do great.” I
can't hold back anymore, a single tear rolls down my cheek. I
continue to fight them back but a few more slip out. Thanksgiving
is probably the first time we will see each other again. We will
11both be so busy we won't have time for each other until then. If
we didn't forget when we were eight we definitely won't forget
each other now.
Michelle and I met in third grade. We played on a basketball
team together. Being from different towns, I lost contact with
her and her twin Maureen after that season. Junior high began in a
new school with three new towns added in and about 300 more
people. I thought I would never find a familiar face until Maureen
walked into my English class in seventh grade. Though I had not
seen her in about four years it's hard to forget identical redheads.
I pounced on her, asking which one she was and if she remembered
me. She was petrified and had no recollection of ever
knowing me. When I saw Michelle later that day, she remembered
me with some coaxing. We embraced and things picked up right
where they left off.
Here we were embracing again, only this time not saying
hellos, but only goodbyes. Standing next to my car, I just wanted
to jump in and drive away. I felt guilty leaving earlier than the
crowd, but I just wanted to get it over with. We said our piece
reassuring each other over and over that everything would be ok
and soon it would be break and we'd all be back together again. I
tossed my phone across the front seat and didn't mind when it hit
the door and fell to the ground. All I wanted to do was get away.
One last hug with a “Good luck, I love you and I'll call you
soon!” and I was in my car turning the key. My stomach dropped
deeper and deeper as I realized this was the last time I would be
driving out of there for a long time. Reaching the end of the street
I put my car in neutral, pulled up the emergency brake, and placing
my head in my hands began to cry.
There will be more nights of smores and talk of high
school days to come but none like this one. We'll return to each
other new people, with new stories and new friends. Because
Michelle started the pattern of change, she became the representation
of our entire group of friends. Next summer will come, but
slowly, and our circle of friends will grow smaller and smaller.
Within a few weeks, at Colby-Sawyer College, Professor
Tom Kealy said at the Convocation ceremony, “No matter how
good or bad something is, it's all worth it as long as you come
away with a good story to tell.” This quote was perfect on a freshman's
first day of college. We will go through new experiences,
engage in new relationships and new friendships. Any apprehension
I felt at that moment was washed away as those words were
spoken. I feel a sigh of relief now knowing that those whom I
meet, and those whom I have met will all touch my lives in many
ways. but I have Michelle to thank for helping me in the first step
to the realization of growing up and growing apart.
Written for the “The Coming-Of-Age Narrative” Honors Pathway
