So, toay is graduation. It's finally here, and I can't, for the life of me, grasp the concept that the moment is upon me. The time has come - and to onceive the idea that I truely believed it would never arrive ...

You know, looking back on these past four years, so much has happened – how much I’ve grown – how different my life has become. But for me, I don’t know, it’s so much deeper than that – it’s not like you know I’ll just drive away and wave goodbye with a toss of my hair and light weighed sigh as if high school were some miniscule part of my life I could easily leave behind. No – it was much deeper than that. Of course I wanted it to end – I’ve counted down the days till graduation since sadly, freshman year, when yes I was that geeky little girl with a mouth full of braces and short unruly hair. But high school, in the end - even I can’t deny its significance – even I can’t deny the role it has played, because, in the end, high school has been the one constant in my life – the one physical place – the single and utmost basis of my routine through the best, and most difficult times of my life over these past four years. When I was a freshman – niave, innocent, and unaware of the dangers of the world – Monmouth Regional was there. When my aunt died and that innocence was shattered – Monmouth Regional was there. When I was a sophomore – outgoing, eager, and determined to show myself to the world – Monmouth Regional was there. When Mr. Chuck and Miss Linda died – Monmouth Regional was there. When I was a junior – excited, overjoyed, and ready to grow up finally – Monmouth Regional was there. When I was a junior and taking Nathan off to college – when I realized in Malibu California that day that my childhood had ended – Monmouth Regional was there. When I was a junior and selling carnations outside the pack – I found out my mom had cancer. I was physically at Monmouth Regional. When I was a junior and spending all afternoon, evening, and night at the hospital taking care of my dying mother – I’d sleep at the hospital, get up, and go to Monmouth Regional. When I was so desperate on the inside – so drained of hope – so filled with grief and dispaire – I’d someone how find myself at with in the walls of Monmouth Regional. When I was a junior I went to bed one night, thinking I would go to Monmouth Regional the next day, but didn’t because my mom died – and I didn’t for a long time. But, I always knew, I would go to Monmouth Regional –I would go back to that one, single place, and everyting would be routine – everything would carry on just as it had before. My classes didn’t change, neither did my teachers, or the seating arrangement in my classes. It was the one place I went when I was a junior … and it was just there. It didn’t move, it didn’t really drastically change … Monmouth Regional didn’t die. When I was a senior, broken, yet determined, Monmouth Regional was still there. When I was a senior I went to Monmouth Regional and I learned to overcome … I learned to keep going. When I was a senior my car broke down in Camden New Jersey while on the way to an event associated with Monmouth Regional. When I was a senior I learned the value of love – how and what to let go of, what and whom to hang on to. I underwent more heartbreak, and when I was at Monmouth Regional I took a chance, picked a college, and decided what I wanted to do with the rest of my life …. Or so I think …

But Graduation demolished that frame. And instead of a charted blue print of certainty, we are faced with a shadowy path of uncertainty. As we journey into the world – as we make those turns – those pivotal decisions where will we end up? Where will life lead us if we turn left as opposed to right – if we go up instead of down? And we’re at that point – we’re at that day of demolition. Monmouth Regional is gone – but in the end, it was a path we all had to take, together. Who we are and what we learned – Monmouth Regional – all of the memories – each and everyone served as a gateway to something greater than ourselves – each and everyone has directed us to the eternal mainstream of our lives. There’s not really any going back. No, we are bigger than that. Instead we’ll reminisce and remember – we’ll look over our shoulders and smile – or frown. Monmouth Regional has become a figure of our past that will, for each and everyone of us, find its own way of intertwining its impact, into our present, future, and eternal lives … whether we like it or not.

The early morning soccer practices and track meets – the cross country races and the beating sun – the roaring thunder and the freezing sleet – the scent of freshly mowed grass and freshly smeared earth beneath your feet. The smell of fresh ink in the photography lab or the sting of fixer and stop bath chemicals on your hands. The stink bombs in the stairwell and the fights after lunch time. The smell of the PAC, and the absurd, ridiculous, yet hilarious writings on the bathroom stalls – The relief of the air-conditioned commons and the sweltering heat of the 500’s at the end of the day. The lockers that got jammed daily – and the sound of the homeroom bell 5 minutes after the fact. The texture of the dew covered grass in the parking lot and the humidity of the September air. The early morning fitness runs, the late afternoon talks in photo. The odor of the sweat and metal from the weight room … the texture of the gradey track beneath bare, sweaty, race exhausted feet. The exhilaration brought by the end of finals – and those brief moments while finishing a cross country race, when I finished my final lap around the track, while the sun set, the crows circled, and my team mates cheered – my heart pounded and my breath was uncontrollably short coming. It’s those moments that I’ll carry with me forever – the memories associated with those experiences that I’ll keep a part of me forever. Because it was in those moments, when I rounded that final lap – when I reached the end mentally, physically, and spiritually, that I found my purpose – it was in those fleeting moments at Monmouth Regional, that I survived. And yes, I survived Monmouth Regional, and everything life through at me while I was there. I ran my laps, I gave parts of myself that will stay embedded in the walls of that school – but no matter who much I gave, or how great or miniscule I received back … I finished my race, I survived…

And now it’s time for goodbye. And you would think I, of all people – someone who’s said so many lifelong goodbyes – would have a clue about how to do something like say goodbye … but I haven’t a clue. Maybe Alex J. said it better “and you would think amidst all the lessons we learned in our four years at Monmouth Regional, someone would have taught us how to say goodbye”. I think that was the one lesson that everyone avoided teaching us – “how to say goodbye” … or maybe I was just absent. But you know, we learned the motions – we learned about every other aspect of life – we learned about what to do once we said goodbye – once we left and started our lives in the real world – but never how to actually say goodbye. So there’s a gap … and we are left to either jump – leap – or to somehow bridge our own gap. I guess for everyone it’s different – but in the end, you just keep going – you keep moving …. You keep existing

And today,l'll seal the day. I'll conclude an experience I always dreaded. Of course it's a given that I wish my mom was here - but it's more than that. She was the one person, aside from the rest of my family, that really supported me through out high school - theo ne person, that, to her dying day, encouraged me to stick with it - the one person who hugged me for hours when I had a terrible day - the one person who helped me with my homework when I had a question - who cradled me when I felt the deepest of losses. She was the one person who believed in me the most .She was the one person that kept me on my feet – the one person that stayed home with me on Friday nights when I chose not to go to parties – she was the one person who could always make me smile. She’s the one that promised me I’d see this day. She was my number one fan – she was my best friend, and she’s gone. I never could have guessed my mom wouldn’t live to see me graduate high school – never guessed I’d have to try my cap and gown on alone in my room, ironing out the creases the way she taught me to by myself. I never dreamed I would stand in my room, stare into the mirror, smile, and sigh with uncertainty… I never dreamed I’d be so uncertain – I never thought I’d have to wonder what my mom would say – or if she was proud …  I never dreamed my mom would physically be gone from me, in this life … but she is, and although I know she’s with me in my heart, it kills me knowing that I’m graduating today, alone (with out her) fulfilling a pact –a promise – a path, the two of us commenced togethe. Although its sad, heart wrenching, and almost unbearable, I couldn’t be more thankful for my dad, who’s been my best friend – I couldn’t have made it with out my brother – and all of my other family that flew from literally all corners of the United States to be with me today. I can honestly say I've come to trust God. I can honestly say I believe it is all for a greater plan - and although it’s not the same, and it never will be again .. I really couldn’t be more Blessed, and that, in the end, is what counts … that, in the end, is what truly matters ….

When I journey and retrace my steps back to my mindset freshman year, never, in my wildest dreams, could I have ever imagined my life unfolding the way it has. The trauma – the death – the grief – all parts I did not see foreshadowed …. but you know, my experience, faith, - and even grief has shown me that you take what God gives you in life – and you just pick up and run with what you’ve got and you just give it your all – you fight for what you have – you live each and every moment with knowing you’ll never have another one quite like it. But most importantly I’ve come to understand that true passion – true perseverance – fierce determination – truth faith - if we embrace each of these and fill them in the deepest crevices of our hearts – if let them seep in the hidden most pains of our souls - they, in and of themselves, possess the power to heal, guide, and fulfill our lives, always, each and every day we live.

Monmouth Regional Class of 2006, this is not the end, only a mere beginning.