Blue Mountains and Stately Halls

So everyone's been moving back to college. I was at Salem State today visiting and watched students and their families carry bags and boxes inside, set up computers and televisions, and make these new rooms into their homes. It raised some conflicting emotions for me and since several people have commented on my lack of journal activity as of late, I thought I'd post something about it.

I miss moving back into school. I miss starting over every fall. I miss getting together with all my friends--other women who have shared four of the most important years of my life. I miss escaping from my parents and becoming my own woman. I miss Randolph-Macon...a lot.

(Unfortunately, I'm ashamed to admit that I can't remember
how the first verse of our college song starts...)

Where blue mountains...
...entwine stately halls
...roses tumble along sunny walls,
...??
There let freedom ring
O there let freedom ring

But on the other hand, I don't miss the stress. I remember the feeling that the semester would never end and I'd be dragged under. It got so bad that I finally started seeing a counselor because I couldn't handle it anymore and that was by sophomore year. I remember the desperation that I wrote most, if not all, my papers with. I remember the constant all-nighters where I pushed myself until the sun rose, and then collapsed from exhaustion until breakfast when my old roommate, Jen, would drag me to the dining hall. I remember turning in my senior paper for sociology and then running to 2nd Wright to Sarah and Christine and sobbing over my incomplete paper. I remember every semester when my papers were turned in after the last minute (and I'm not kidding). I remember having a breakdown at the bagel table every semester during the second to last week of classes. I remember having to forgo going to Roanoke Pride with Bridges because I had too much work to catch up on. I remember sitting in the meditation room in Houston Chapel and realizing amidst the tears that if I stood any chance of graduating, I couldn't go to the Millennium March.

Randolph-Macon in fair Virginia
Home of true learning, beauty and art
We sing thy praises, o alma mater
Our voices serenading in the night
Sing of loyalty and love
Here let freedom ring,
O here let freedom ring

So even as I miss Randolph-Macon Woman's College and miss the experience and the adventure that all these students are beginning, I know how it always ended for me. It's a bittersweet nostalgia. Would I change schools, if given the chance to make the decision again? Not a chance. Because as much pain and suffering I endured over those four years, it was all worth it. It made me a better person and the woman I am today. Someday when I fulfill my dreams, I will look back and know that R-MWC played a significant part. (I apologize for the slightly melodramatic touch to this but as I finish it up, I'm two hours or so into my Tylenol PM...still awake but not entirely with it. Plus, it's been so long since I wrote in here, that I think I've lost my touch. :-(