Graduation Day

It seems to me the most meaningful experiences are often completely different than anticipated.  The flurry of lasts came and went in the blink of an eye this past week, and suddenly I found myself dressing for graduation in the middle of my beloved sun-drenched bedroom at 8am.

My racing mind hadn't succumbed to sleep until 6am that morning.  My hair was unwashed, my eyes gritty, my heart in no way prepared for the ceremony to come.

And yet later that morning, I accepted my MA with honours to a barrage of camera flashes.  I laughed and cried at the hillarious Facebook-themed presentation by my fellow students.  I held onto my parents, told a sniffling Ale how much I love her, got swept up in a hug from Barny, teased friends through the myriad of photographs in the blazing sun afterwards.  My face ached from smiles I couldn't contain.  Between the ceremony and the buffet, several of us snuck over to the Agenzia terrace for a bottle of Arneis and a moment to savour the accomplishment.

That night, Wendy and I hosted a feast for 12:  a quiet way to mark a year of incredible growth.  Surrounded by laughter, free-flowing wine and the people who impacted our year beyond measure, my eyes met Wendy's from across the table.  We raised our glasses to each other, our eyes suspiciously wet, and smiled - conspirators till the end.

Master of Food Culture and Communications
Section B, Class of 2011