CHAPTER TWO
After plenty of planning and working, I reached my graduation ceremony which marked 'the day before I flew'. As I had only planned to stay long enough to get some money together before taking off, it was important to me that I left ASAP after my graduation ceremony.
This meant the ceremony was a big deal to me. Both because I was so relieved that I had finally finished the degree I had had no real interest in and also because this was a chance to see everyone all at once and have a big party before I got on the plane.
And it was. It was a huge party.
I invited my parents, sister and grandparents to the ceremony itself, where I would also see my university friends and have a drink together (there was a university-funded bar tab) before going to eat a late dinner with everyone in my family who had attended plus one other set of grandparents.
The actual graduation ceremony was really well organised. My university had to graduate so many students that year that by the time the ceremony for people like me who had studied the most boring stuff on the planet came around, the staff had it down to an art.
I sat in my assigned seat among the other graduands and my family sat in the first row for guests. To this day I am not sure how they got such a great seat, but I am sure it had something to do with my grandmother's elbows.
Sitting with the graduands, we all chatted (as quietly as possible) while the ceremony was underway. It was hard not to when we were all so excited. We were graduating, this was amazing!
It felt long past due: my graduation, and I was happy that this was finally happening. I couldn't believe how long it felt like, these past few years. And to be here among the people who I started this journey with felt like a fitting end.
I still remembered our first lecture together and seeing some of these faces around the room. I remember the first time I met most of these people, too. It felt like so long ago.
When it was my turn to get up and accept my certificate, I joined the orderly line behind everyone else in my row and marched up to the stage. We were standing in the wings waiting to be called up individually when I realised my smile: one that wouldn't come off my face. I was excited, this was brilliant! I was finally here, graduating. It never felt like it would happen!
I followed the cues they had taught all the graduands backstage when we'd gone to accept our gowns and walked up on stage when it was my turn, shook the man with the funny hats hand and walked over to my place in the line behind the person who had graduated before me. We both congratulated one another as I found my family in the crowd. My mother was holding up a camera and clicked a photo of me holding my certificate. I would see that photo later and the smile upon my face and laugh. What a fantastic photo, what a fantastic day!
That evening I had a drink with everyone. I would pick up a glass of cheap Champaign, clink glasses with a different graduand and take a sip. I had too many drinks to count and when it was time to say goodbye to my friends and get in the car to be taken to dinner I was already quite drunk. Then at dinner, I had more to drink. By the time it was time to go home after the dinner I was swaying on my feet, a full tummy of food.
My sister teased me about throwing up in the car on the way home but I shook my head. I wouldn't throw up. I had a plane to catch the next day, that wasn't happening.
"Are you sure you'll make it?" She asked, teasing.
I rolled my eyes in answer. "Of course I will!"
We both giggled then at the absurdity of it: I was so sure I would be able to make it to the airport despite not being able to stand.
"Are you all packed?" My mother asked from the front passenger seat.
I nodded, of course I was packed. This was a trip I had wanted to take forever! I wasn't going to forget to pack for such a trip!
That night, despite all the alcohol in my system I lay in bed unable to sleep. I was sure the nausea from drinking too much wasn't helping, but at the same time, didn't drunk people sleep the best of all?
I was going to go across the world and the thought, as exciting as it was an as well prepared as I was, did frighten me. I was scared of what would happen. I was scared of being on my own. I was scared of what I would do if the ranch I was supposed to be working at suddenly decide they didn't want me there, if they kicked me out. Even as I had a bunch of money saved, I still worried what would happen.
I took a few deep breaths and decided to worry about it in the morning before rolling over and shutting my eyes. Even if I didn't get any sleep, at least my eyes would be well rested.
I must have fallen asleep eventually as I did wake up to my alarm the next morning. When I did, I almost jumped out of bed ready to take on the day. I threw on some clothes and got everything in order for the trip.
Then I ran downstairs for breakfast and found my sister and parents waiting for me at the breakfast table. Everyone was on their best behaviour throughout breakfast which kind of annoyed me. I know I was just about to leave the country, but couldn't everyone be a bit more like themselves?
When it was time to go, my sister rushed upstairs to help with my bags and as we loaded them into my car I could see my mum tearing up. My dad reminded her on the sly to calm down and she took a few deep breaths before getting in the car.
Seeing that made me stop in my tracks but as my parents were trying to hide the emotional outburst from me, I wasn't going to let them know I had seen it. I got into the back seat of the car beside my sister and took a few deep breaths. This was actually happening.
My sister took my hand without saying anything and squeezed. I squeezed her hand back and we began the silent language we had always had of squeezing and sighing and looking out windows. We knew what we were communicating, yet no-one else did. It was nice to have a sister. I would miss her.
When we arrived at the airport and parked, I had the feeling of something heavy sitting inside my chest and looking over at my mother whose steely face told me she was struggling to stay strong, I had to take a few deep breaths of my own and force my legs to work. This wasn't a big deal, it was only a year.
As much as I wanted to be independent though, I was still scared. I was scared of how this was going to go into the future and I was scared of how I felt (I felt awful!). I knew once I got on that plane it would be easier and that it was only difficult now because I was saying goodbye to my family who I loved. I would be fine.
Everyone managed to hide their feelings quite well: through the checking in with the airline, the coffee we had to have before the flight (Melbournians love their coffee!) all the way up to saying goodbye before I went through security.
When it was time to say goodbye was when everyone fell apart. We all cried, even my normally stoic father. Tears flowed freely and I caught one of the security staff looking at us. She looked sad to see me go too, which made me want to laugh but I stopped myself.
"But I'll be home before you know it!" I said to no-one in particular and to my family in general. My mother nodded at my words and my sister rolled her eyes like I had said something dumb.
Even through her own tears my sister was sarcastic, "what are you talking about?" She asked, "We'll be fine, just go through those gates and stop your crying!"
I laughed and gave her one final hug, then my mother, then my father. Then I hugged my mother again because she looked the saddest. I told her this when I was close to her ear and she gave a little laugh, the kind of, 'I know I look silly, but I don't care what anyone thinks, my baby is leaving' laugh one would expect from any mother in that situation.
Then I was off. Through the security then finding my gate and walking onto my plane. I was going to America.