The pandemic began, for me, on March 10, 2020, when Harvard University announced it was shutting down its spring semester due to the coronavirus outbreak. Those folks in the Ivy League are (1) smart and (2) don’t cancel classes for the average flu scare. When we learned that baseball and softball seasons were not to be, that graduation ceremonies would be “virtual”. … the novel coronavirus became quite real. Mankind would adjust to accommodate this new contagion or die trying.
Fast-forward to May 26, 2021 — around and past the longest collective slog of our lifetimes — and I found myself sitting among hundreds of other people(!) on the grounds of Wesleyan University for an actual graduation ceremony. My daughter Sofia is among 700 members of a group Wesleyan president Michael Roth aptly described as “the mighty Class of 2021.” Roth opened his remarks with the following: “It’s so nice to see you all here, in person. Together.” Such a simple expression, a sentiment as easily understood by a child in her kindergarten class as a young adult capped and gowned for one of life’s turning points. (Already emotional having marched in as professors and administrators stood and clapped, Sofia had to catch her breath after the remark.)
The week before the ceremony, Wesleyan announced that graduates could double their invited guests, from two people to four. And again with thoughts of that Harvard shutdown in mind, I felt like this was a dramatic step out of the pandemic ooze. Not only would this fine New England university allow a crowd to attend its commencement. … it would double that crowd. Both of Sofia’s grandmothers made the drive to Middletown, Connecticut, from central Vermont. If the return to “normal” has a symbolic image, it’s a hug between a grandparent and grandchild. I witnessed lots of those on May 26th.
The pandemic isn’t over, friends. Particularly in states (like Tennessee) where vaccination rates have plateaued too soon, cases of infection continue to emerge. People continue to die. If you want to boost your anxiety level a notch or two, read about the “Delta” variant of the virus. It seems our enemy in this battle didn’t exactly throw in the towel upon the mass distribution of a vaccine. But — and this is a significant but — as vaccination rates do increase, so do comfort levels in and around gatherings of a few hundred people, even a few thousand if you glance at the current state of things in NBA and NHL arenas or MLB stadiums.
On the subject of baseball stadiums, Wesleyan’s quad happens to be the university’s baseball field. (Yes, this is a perfect model.) I literally sat in centerfield as my favorite Wesleyan Cardinal marched to a platform in front of the school’s library to receive her bachelor’s degree. This obviously made me think of my home away from home here in Memphis: AutoZone Park. Upon returning from New England, my first outing was a Sunday matinee between the Redbirds and Toledo Mud Hens. The crowd at downtown’s diamond was around the same size — 3,000, give or take — as the one at Sofia’s graduation. Like at Wesleyan, people were maskless when outside, mankind’s current honor code firmly in place: no need to wear a mask anymore if you’ve been vaccinated. The atmosphere felt right, the cheering a boon for spirits rather than a threat to our health and well being. The Redbirds lost, but I left the ballpark knowing oxygen had reached deeper into my lungs than it had in several months.
Between Sofia’s graduation and the Redbirds game, I did some serious reuniting with family and friends in Vermont. So many hugs. Each one seemed a bit tighter than the previous, and some lasted longer than good-to-see-you-again hugs should. But those hugs now have curative powers, a reminder that “the human touch” is often better in actual form than virtual. I hugged Sofia tightly after her graduation ceremony, knowing that moment — and all those people that shared it with us — is for a lifetime. But I hugged her even tighter a few days later, before returning to Memphis. Because there is life, indeed, ahead for both of us. For all of us. Together again.
