Before You Go…
By: Megan Shea
This is an open letter of sorts- addressed to those in the very same boat as myself. This metaphorical boat is one finally reaching a lull in the storm that we all know won’t last.
You’ve just graduated high school and you’ve committed to your college of choice. Now lies a transitory period in your life- the summer before you pick up the bags and hang your hat elsewhere. And probably somewhere with significantly less square footage. I’m not writing with any intention of giving advice; after all, I am in the same lowly boat we spoke about. Think of this article as simply my thinking aloud. Maybe it will help someone sit back and reflect as it has helped me in writing it.
A time of high celebration, change, and activity is leveling off only to start up again in a few months. As someone who knew this summer would be one of reverence, I held off on summer semester. To me, there was plenty of time to get those extra credits and only limited time to live home and enjoy what really has been my childhood. With my time in the past few years having been populated by college essays, studying motivated by college aspirations, and work to add to those resumes, I knew a period of calm was not something I needed to usher away and so I’ve decided exactly what I’d like to do with it. There’s a sense of permanence in this transition. Your routine will never quite be the same, your relationships will change, and your childhood home will become just that.
To me, this summer is an opportunity to sit back and revel in the friendships I’ve made, the family relationships I’m fortunate enough to have, and in the opportunity that lies ahead. There’s a distinction to be made here- marvel in all that lies ahead without wishing away what sits in front of you. It’s an unfortunate reality that we’ll inevitably lose touch with some of our closest friends. Make the most of those friendships and see all those you might not see as much as often as you can. Don’t neglect savoring in having family so close. While they’re sending you off with excitement for you, even if it’s left unsaid, they’re going to miss you and there will likely be some tears shed. And regardless of the comments they make, your siblings will miss you. Don’t let it take being fatigued and sick from pulling all nighters without Mom’s chicken soup to realize all your family did for you. Realize it early and let them know that you did.
Keep adding memories to the bank until your last day. Savor in those memories. Let yourself have those out-of-body moments when you realize all the good in what’s there. Be reflective of it all, even if you’re counting down the days until you go. With constant comments about “the best four years of your life” only a countdown away (and here’s to hoping that it is), it’s easy to mentally skip ahead without enjoying the final pages of this chapter in our lives. Close the chapter in a way you won’t ever regret- in a way that you’ll remember fondly later.
If you’ve grown up or lived most of your life in South Florida, you’re probably anxiously awaiting that change of scenery. I’m going to avoid all the exhausted cliches with this one, but there’s something undeniably special about your home town. Maybe it’s beaches we grew up on or the hurricane parties we shamelessly threw. Maybe it’s the unspoken rule that flip-flops and a bathing suit are always acceptable attire. Whatever it is, there’s something to it that will be missed. I know, I know. The bad drivers and stifling heat- not so much.
I’ve also pledged to make it a time of improvement, as leisure time quickly loses its shine to me. Work or take up odd jobs to save up some to take away to school with you. I promise your future self will be eternally grateful that you made enough money that one summer to get you through the year with (somewhat) decent food. Go on trips with your friends or family or keep up on your physical fitness. Do whatever it is that means having done all you needed to do before you left. Go ahead and break out the bucket list.
I’ve just about finished my ramblings. This boat we’re in is an amazing one. It’s full of excitement and new beginnings. The fabled light at the end of the tunnel is so close, but I’m not closing this chapter until the very last sentence is written.
