The Streakin’ Deacon just left for Cincinnati yesterday and I must admit, I am having a bit of separation anxiety. I know she is in good hands – Chelsea and Kathleen are both great drivers – it’s just…weird. I’m still getting used to my stationary office desk. The scenery here does not change as fast. There are no giant windshields and WFU fight song horns. The lobby does not extend outward at the press of a button. No, it is true that the “grounded” life does not move quite as fast but it is still beautiful.

From my Alumni Hall patio view (yes, I have already moved outside), Wait Chapel is a postcard in the late morning light and my lovely colleagues are slowly but spiritedly trickling in. Here comes Rob Daniels, suitcase swinging in his left hand, Orioles orange socks. There goes Maria Henson on here electric bike, Mr. Blue. Suzanne Robertson’s voice carries in the breeze from a few tables down. I am greeted with a warm smile from Abriana. All these sights mixing with the distant hum of renovation.

I’m sure the commencement stage is disassembled now – its immense weight leaving deep impressions in the grass. The metaphor is stamped right there on the ground. Time will only tell just how deep those impressions are on the hearts and souls of Class ’17. I hope they have time to reflect on their experience during their journeys home. We will miss them.

I’m thankful for my place here. On campus. On the Streakin’ Deacon. Amongst my colleagues. And for that grassy indentation left on my own heart, the letters still clearly legible : WFU.

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