Today was really the “last day” in Ann Arbor; the last day of being there as a student and Public Librarian Associate.  I worked the reference desk from 9-1…well from 9-12:20 when they held a little impromtu party for me in the back and other people covered the desk for me.  Then I turned in my badge and walked away.  Some people had tears in their eyes, which surprised me, I’ve only been there a year, and though I guess it was sort of sad, I was happy to move on in my life.

I walked back toward campus with my camera, stopping by the construction site of the new School of Information, then on to the center of campus where the big graduation will occur on Saturday.  It’s pretty amazing what they have done to the place, completly covered more than an acre with plastic flooring and wall to wall chairs.  Then I wandered over to the cemetary on Observatory where I have some family buried, said “hi” to them, and moved on to the Arboretum.  It was a beautiful day for a walk through the woods.  The “mile of daffodils” is in bloom.  It’s a simple line of daffodils a mile long, zigzagging through the woods and open pastures of green grass.  People were playing frisbee and ball, and enjoying the sun.  It felt good to be enjoying the sun myself without papers, tests or work hanging over my head.

Down by the river I stopped at the stone with Mom and Dad’s poem.  I placed a small smooth black rock, shaped like an arrowhead on top of their stone and said “hi” to them.  I thought how Dad would like the small arrowhead stone.  I’ve only stopped by their rock a couple of times in these past two years and this time it didn’t hurt as much, which I suppose is a good thing.   I won’t be back there anytime soon, so I sat on a bench and watched the river flow by for awhile, and thought about my parents.  Then I climbed back up the hill heading back toward the hospital and a bus for the ride to the car.  At the top of the hill I happened to glance back toward the river, and realized I could see, directly across the valley, the house Dad grew up in.  I was looking straight at what was probably his bedroom window.  And I knew in that instance that he had certainly played in these hills, just as his kids played in the woods near our home.  It was a comforting feeling, and with a nod and a smile toward him I went and caught the bus.  Later in the evening I stopped by an open house in Ann Arbor for a friend, also graduating this weekend.  A bit of good food and good conversation and then I slipped away to come home. 

Tonight I am no longer a student, no longer an employee.  I’m just me.   And it feels pretty good.