Reflections

Nine years ago this time I was heading off to college. I had packed my bags, filled up my gas tank, emptied my mind, and hit the road for a 14 hour trip that would be the beginning of a four-year journey. I had about $1,000 to my name, which I would learn to stretch out for the next four months, to last me until I came home for Christmas. I had no job, no shame, and no fears (except for only failing miserably and not meeting anyone and not having enough to live on and my car breaking down and stranding me in the middle of an unknown city). I had nothing, but I had it all.

I would fall in love with Fall and Christmas and Spring more than ever and build anticipation over and over and over again every season for each homecoming reunion I would have with my family.

I would take 45 minutes of driving aimlessly to find Lake Hollingsworth during my first week on campus, which would become my college moniker and safe haven to unload my thoughts and dreams and ambitions, for the next four years of my life.

Nine years ago this time I was clueless--clueless about real love, real friends, and real careers. I was alone without a roomate who was nonexistent and a no-show, which became a blessing and a challenge. On the one hand I was living most freshman's dreams: a room to herself, no one to answer to, and peace and quiet whenever she wanted. On the other hand I was living a nightmare: no one to talk to and bond with my very first semester leading to an absolute feeling of loneliness and separation.

But thankfully, I did have my best friend Isaac to lean on--to show me the ropes, to guide me and teach me and introduce me to all that he had learned during his first year when he really was alone. I never noticed it before, but I'm dang proud of him for leaving me that first year to follow his dreams. For then I might not have ever met Kim, or Shanna, or Vanessa, or Ashley, or Roger, or Jackie or Leslie, or Shellie, the one boss who I would later not be able to tolerate, but who would teach me to love the unlovely. I might not have ever met the Lakeland Tuesday Morning, Olive Garden, Books-a-Million, or American Greetings. And I certainly would never have met Mitchell's Coffee House on North Kentucky Avenue in the heart of dowtown, where I would spend many a dates with friends chatting over my favorite indulgence, the Almond Joy Mocha.

I might not have ever moved in with Kim, who I would become close to and lean on during that first semester, and who the following semester I would room with and later, become life long friends with. I might never have been a bridesmaid in her wedding (or she in mine), 6 years later. And I might never have met Shanna, who was the only girl in our hall when Kim and I were Delta Pi's during our sophomore year, who seemed to reach out to us for guidance and conversation, which is what we were there for. I might then never have photographed her wedding, 6 years later either.

We (me and Isaac) might never have inspired Paul, Isaac's dad, to move back to Lakeland to finish his degree while we were there and purchase the house on Buttercup, that we would later live in our Senior year. And he might not have ever met Grisel, the 2nd love of his life.

Nine years ago I met Dr. Rutland, our favorite preacher of all time, who inspired us in countless ways to be all that we could be and more. Nine years ago I never knew I'd live through and see four hurricanes: Charlie, Frances, Jean, and Ivan all in one season and be exposed to parishes that were utterly ruined, mangled, and torn apart by mother nature. And "dad" might never have been able to give us and all our friends a place to sleep those windy nights, watching the earth around us blow away. I never would have visited Lake Whales, the poor community supported by the Christian Contracter's Association, who helped people put their lives back together whose cars and homes were smashed by enormous trees, who used buckets to catch the leaks and drips from holes in their roofs.


Nine years ago gas was cheaper, I was jobless, not a homeowner, and I had no degree. Nine years ago that was me. And today, gas is through the roof, I am writing you at my job, I am in mortgage debt up to my eyeballs, and have a degree I'm not even using.

Yet today, I am the happiest I think I've ever been.