If you have been following our content and reading our blogs for any amount of time – it is the world’s worst kept secret that I am a very proud and – by my own admission – very obnoxious alumna of Boston College. (Not Boston University. Never, ever, get that confused. For your safety.) My favorite colors are maroon and gold, I scream myself hoarse watching Boston College football games, and I have a BC Eagle tattooed on my right calf. I will fight anyone verbally or physically if it comes to it that we are the best Jesuit institution in the world. I despise Notre Dame with the ferocity of a die hard Sox fan railing against the New York Yankees. Those Fighting Irish to our west can just take a seat and stop riding on the coattails of the movie “Rudy” and the reign of Lou Holtz. A pile of us traveled to That Place a few years back to watch Boston College play and I am not ashamed to admit that I may have subtly inserted a universal finger gesture in many photographs – especially at the statues. For some reason, their statues raise my ire.
But I digress.
My 30th college reunion is coming up this weekend – at the time of this writing – though when this blog post is released the reunion will be a memory – however hazy – courtesy of Bud Light and my friend group. We have the capacity to willfully ignore that we are 51 years old which seems like a great idea until we are bed ridden with Advil and fluids for several days following. As excited as I am to reunite and be back on the campus that will always feel the most like home, I am surprisingly apprehensive and a bit anxious. None of this makes a bit of sense, but emotions are rarely logical.
I will be bunking in a dorm suite with friends! I have known these people since I was 18 years old! Among all friends in attendance – either in my bunk or otherwise – I count among them the following: 2 doctors and 2 nurses in the event of a medical catastrophe; a lawyer for when poor decisions have serious consequences; a psychologist when an existential crisis hits; a chef in the event I panic over modifying food to meet my allergy challenges. Add on a bunch of tech people including cybersecurity experts for when I fail to update my phone (again, sorry Brad!) as well as a slew of financial wizards to manage my credit card purchases (Do you really need another gray BC football T-shirt, Julie? Do you?).
I have incredibly accomplished friends, to be sure. I have wonderful people in my life that understand, accommodate and accept my hearing loss as part of me – not something to be frustrated with or dismissed. I know that the dorm we are staying in is up to ADA compliance with flashing fire alarms. I could not have been in better hands in terms of disability management – but why was I still nervous?
I have noticed that as my hearing loss has declined, my social battery is draining quicker than it ever has but I am not sure if that is because my hearing has gotten worse or my tolerance for loud environs is changing with my age. In looking ahead to the weekend, I am already picking and choosing which activities I will and will not be attending to ensure maximum enjoyment while minimizing listening fatigue. I have the courage now to bow out of activities, and do not have any fear of missing out on anything because I am confident and satisfied in my social decisions. I plan on employing my top-notch advocacy skills to alert my classmates to face me, speak louder, and repeat/rephrase what they are saying as needed. I am entering into the weekend with expert preparedness and organization – Father Monan, our revered university president that we adored, would be proud! (And, honestly, shocked…).
As with all things in life that feel insurmountable at the moment, I know that once I arrive at The Heights my fears will subside.I cannot wait to have a BL gripped within my talons as I gaze out a high window at the campus below me, feathers completely unruffled, and a smile widening my beak as I take in my nest.
From Gasson Hall to Bapst Library to Alumni Stadium – there is no place like home.
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