The Day I Forgot I was Driving to Massachusetts

by Drew Holmes

I climbed the three flights of stairs one last time and entered my almost empty dorm room. It was almost empty because there was no way my halogen floor lamp, the last item I needed to remove before final inspection, would fit into my overstuffed 1986 VW Cabriolet, a car only slightly smaller than my dorm room.

I was hours away from receiving my bachelor’s degree from Drew University and, until that moment, it had not occurred to me I was driving to Massachusetts following the ceremony. Of course I was. I was no longer a college student. New Jersey was no longer home.

In my defense, I had just been back to Massachusetts the previous week for my great-grandmother’s funeral. That plus finishing my honors thesis (with minutes to spare) had not left much time to reflect and appreciate the moment. I had gotten so caught up in the small details of completing college that I had completely overlooked the enormity of the achievement.

I remembered that feeling while on my final rounds of the school year in Loveland this week. I visit fifteen schools each Tuesday, usually to deliver books or pick up repairs. Almost always it is to have a conversation and be a sympathetic ear to the music teacher whose program I am there to support.

Music teachers occupy a rare position in their schools. They frequently are the only expert in their subject in the whole building and they see all ages of students in their school, not just one grade. The last couple of years have been extremely challenging for these professional educators who teach a subject that, for all practical purposes, must be taught in person.

As I made my rounds, I marveled at what was accomplished this year. School was fully in person. Masks were necessary for a time, but that has passed. Concerts were scheduled and held. Aspiring musicians have enrolled for next school year. We are no longer afraid to plan.

This year had its bittersweet moments as well. Some teachers will not be returning to their schools, moving on for improved opportunities in career or lifestyle. I wish all of them the best of luck and hope they know it was a privilege to be a small part of their program’s success. I hope as they transition to what lies ahead, they take time to appreciate the road behind not despite the dips and bumps but because of them.

“Hey Augie!” I said to a friend passing my room on his way to the ceremony, “You want a lamp?”

He graciously took it off my hands and we headed towards graduation and an uncertain future.

As this school year ends, I think of the quote by Louie L’Amour: “There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning”. That ending years ago in New Jersey and the one this week in Colorado are just pages turning in the great novel we are all writing together.

I can’t wait to read the next chapter.