You know, it’s funny to be writing the follow-up to my first post roughly one year later. Rereading my initial musings about Covid and my senior year highlights just how alone I felt in those moments. Time really does lend perspective, and I can’t help but feel grateful that I am in a much better space, both mentally and physically. But, alas, every story has its ending, and to skim past the rough patches would be like ignoring the most valuable lessons of my life. So we will press on.
SPRING 2021
Like most seniors, I’d imagine, the final semester of your college career holds the highest expectations. Every meal, unexpected encounter, and last-minute assignment has a special significance separate and apart from anything similar in past years. Because that meal with your classmate could be the last in your favorite spot; that random “Hey! How are you?” to your old partner in Statistics 101 could be the last time you ever see them; and that sigh of relief after chugging out a mini-essay at 2:00 am could be the last time you ever stay up that late for an assignment. The spring of senior year is so bittersweet because it’s a season of lasts, of half-assed “see you soon”s, of clinging desperately to every moment in the hopes of prolonging something that’s gone by way too quickly.
But Covid changed senior year. Instead of clinging to every “last,” I felt bombarded by “firsts.” The first class to hold an in-person graduation ceremony in a pandemic, the first socially-distanced move-out day, the first class to finish an entire year of online learning, the first class to graduate without meeting some of their professors in person. And the list goes on. Now, of course, there are exceptions to the rule. I’m not discounting those who graduated in 2020 without any pomp and circumstance, or those who completed their degrees online. Yet, what was supposed to feel like a celebration of four years worth of memories became clouded by new reminders of the dire state of our world.
It would also be unfair to say that the entire semester was a wash. Remember those two random roommates I mentioned before? Well, they ended up turning my final few months at Wake Forest into some of the best. Heather (from Arizona) and Jacks (from Florida) came into my life by chance but took that chance to get to know me. We bonded in my car after a rainy trip to Dunkin Donuts, and as the saying goes, the rest is history. During the first few weeks of the spring semester, Wake Forest absolutely exploded with Covid cases. I’m sure it was from the convergence of people from around the country, but classes went fully remote, dining halls closed, and students testing positive were shipped off to hotels to quarantine. Suddenly, seeing Heather and Jacks became my everyday. And I wouldn’t have traded that reality for anything. We would make breakfast together in the mornings and chat about our favorite coffee. Towards the later afternoon, they would turn on a Marvel movie (I was persuaded to watch the films in release-date order), and we would watch together. Heather would sit on the long sectional piece (which didn’t make sense because she was the shortest), and Jacks would share the middle with me. Every so often, one of us would retire to bed early for some alone time, but for the most part, we stayed together until the end. I learned about their previous three years at Wake, their families, and what they hoped to achieve in the future. As cliché as it sounds, we laughed, cried, and became friends in a way that I had always dreamed of. We respected each other as peers, took note of each person’s boundaries, and somehow found a way not to hate one another, even though we lived together 24/7 and barely had anything else to do. Consider this article my ode to them and a token of my gratitude for their willingness to invite me into their friend group.
I thought I would have more to stay about this semester. I submit my final projects under the roof of ZSR Library. I ate my last meal in The Pit with some of my closest friends from my first year. I wept at the reality that adulthood was coming, and I didn’t feel ready. But I also smiled and laughed. In what felt like such a bummer semester, I enjoyed it much more than the fall. Looking back, I made wonderful memories with friends both old and new. Of course, there were bumps and missteps along the way, but without them, my life would be far less full of color. And in the end, the dark bits were overshadowed by the countless bright, happy, vibrant memories I will cherish forever.
-Sam To Somewhere
