Transition

Good Saturday Morning!!!

The Party's Over....ah yes, vacation comes to an end. Cindy and I have been away the past ten days. To say that we have enjoyed these days would be to overstate the facts just a bit. Certainly there have been good times, renewing acquaintances with old friends, reading, shopping, visiting historic sites, playing golf, etc. There have been bittersweet moments as well during these days, for included in this trip was an act of separation as we moved Clayton into the dorm at the University of Kentucky for his freshman year. Though this move has been eighteen years in the making, it seems to have come so quickly...where did the time go?

Moving him into the dorm was reasonably uneventful. The mothers of the roommates got everything organized and settled in its place and we left Clayton on Friday afternoon with the assurance that we would see him again the next day for the freshman induction ceremony. Saturday afternoon we stopped by his dorm to drop off a few items, and I warned Cindy not to give in to the urge to straighten up what I assumed would be a now disheveled room. My assumptions were correct and Cindy, to her credit, bravely resisted her motherly instincts to clean and straighten, and we headed off to Memorial Coliseum for the induction ceremony.

There had been few tears along this journey. We had been prepared by others to expect a rush of emotions as we made our way through this rite of passage. As the induction ceremony got under way, the president of the university stood to welcome and challenge the class of 2016. A rising sophomore then reminded the new students that she had sat where they were now sitting the year before, offering encouragement for their new adventure. The students were inducted by reciting a pledge of commitment together and then a choral group sang the song all Kentuckians revere, My Old Kentucky Home. Tears were flowing as parents across the room were overcome by this special moment...except for me. As a native Kentuckian I am often moved by Stephen Foster's great tribute to the bluegrass state, but as I sang along with thousands of others on this day, there were no tears, no obvious emotion. I was handling this experience much better than I thought I would.

Then something happened I wasn't prepared for. The marching band came running into the coliseum and commenced the playing of the UK fight song. It was a loud, boisterous moment when tears were to give way to a unified celebration...except for me. With the drums beating, the brass blaring, and the batons twirling in the air, tears began streaming down my cheeks. I was caught off guard by this sudden emotion that seemed a bit out of place. People around us were clapping and singing, some pounding their fists in the air to the beat of the drums, and I was tearing up. Now I have counseled people through the years that grief can grab one at the most unexpected times. The playing of the the UK fight song was certainly one of those unexpected times. As I stood there wondering why I was crying when everyone else was joyously celebrating, it hit me, that this very song was something Clayton and I had hummed, whistled, and sung together whenever we watched a UK basketball or football game. Over the years, whether watching on TV or having traveled to Rupp Arena, we had shared experiences that had marked our allegiance to the Wildcats, and in a very real way, to each other. We would still celebrate this connection, but now, in different places and different experiences. I pulled myself together long enough to clap as the majorettes strutted out of the building and the last echoes of the drums were released into the late afternoon air. I dried my tears, smiled at Cindy, and acknowledged yet another transition in our lives.

Few tears have been shed since that day. The moment of release had come. Now, we begin the daily routines of our new lives. Texting, email, and phone conversations keep us connected. And of course, come November, some five-hundred miles apart, we will once again share a connection, with Clayton at Rupp Arena and me in our family room watching by television, as the familiar sounds of the fight song are played...On, On, U of K, we are right for the fight today.

Excuse me, I need to find the box of Kleenex.

Jim Abernathy