We set up our camping chairs at the top of the hill.
We wandered around campus holding hands and seeing old sights.
We stopped by the observatory to stand in the place where you can hear your own echo.
We lounged in the shade of the flowering trees.
I drank several mugs of craft beer and picked dandelions for my hair.
(We didn't dance or go on the carnival ride though. But I didn't even mind.)
I ran into a couple old friends. Next year I think I would like to go with a group of people, because that's really more what the spirit of the day is about.
Everywhere we were surrounded by students who looked just like the people we went to college with, doing all the things we used to do, but none of them were familiar. It was a surreal feeling.
We talked about how our college is a magical place. It's where I grew into my sense of self. I studied harder than I should have but still had a lot of fun. It wasn't all happy but I was always meeting friends who helped picked me up and carry me on. And there was always beauty of the campus, with its everlasting trees and fields of green and contemplative lake to help me feel grounded and connected to the preciousness of life. I got so sentimental missing it that it made me cry. (I'm a total crybaby.)
The festivities ended too quickly, as they always seemed to, so we packed up our camping chairs and slowly made our way back to our hotel for a quiet night: him snoring and me watching TV movies.
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