Abigail graduates with Heaven’s blessings

Somewhere in Heaven a mother is smiling.

We knew Abigail was graduating from college last weekend, but somehow we missed the fact that we were invited to attend.

After a week in northern Virginia chasing Jean’s boys while she was working the fires in southeast Georgia, we were exhausted and, quite honestly, ready to hand them over to their mommy and retreat south via I-81.

It wasn’t that easy. Nothing ever is.

Jean left Waycross Friday morning, heading to Staunton, Va. for the Mary Baldwin College Baccalaureate and Commencement 2007. She had nearly 700 miles to drive.

To her husband Brian fell the duty of packing up three days’ worth of clothes and diapers for two toddlers and Isaac. Their sister Esther, 19, got herself ready and helped with the boys. She’s the organizer of the family, although you wouldn’t guess that if you peeked into her bedroom or bath. As a recent acquirer of a Virginia driver’s license, she drove, quite well, whenever she could give her dad a break.

Meanwhile, Brian’s parents from Grantsville, Md. were being chauffeured to Staunton by Brian’s brother Glenn and his relatively new wife Donna.

The honoree of the moment was, of course, on campus, packing to clear out of her dorm room between ceremonial obligations. Her tall, dark, and handsome (I know, that’s cliché, but that describes Jonathan to a nanopixel) hovered affectionately near Abigail. His family – mom, dad, two sisters and an absent brother – also made it.

Isaac, 14, and the wee boys were left with relatives just outside of town. To think of them in the middle of such academic solemnity was…well, unthinkable.

I guess that’s all. The various clumps of relatives and relative wannabes drifted in and out. The dozen or so who had dinner together Saturday evening were not entirely the same dozen who attended the reception earlier that day. And while a couple, not feeling well, excused themselves from the graduation ceremony itself, a new group seemed to take their place.

Oh, and I forgot to mention the ROTC parade Saturday afternoon. Abigail and about 50 other beautiful young women marched in groups and formations that meant absolutely nothing to me. Jonathan was there, but Esther, Brian, and I were the only family members that made it. That was a shame, because they were spectacular.

Dark green caps and jackets, pristine white trousers and gloves, a variety of sashes and belts, emblems and shoes, all the way down to the sabers – knowing that one of them was already deployed made this serious business. Mine were not the only welling eyes as the flag paraded by.

At a signal, the tension snapped as about 50 dark green caps were tossed into the air in a tradition I had only seen in pictures before.

On the day of the 165th Baccalaureate and Commencement of Mary Baldwin College in Stanton Va. the sunbright sky, green slopes, and black-clad young women with mortarboards tipping occasionally as a merciful breeze swept the hillside packed with proud families. Few clouds floated overhead, and the humidity was low. There were more than a few sunburned faces by the time it was over.

(When it is almost a given that a graduation in south central Virginia will fall on a hot, sunny day, why don’t they don white robes and caps? They do in Fayette County, Ga., don’t they?)

Either they’ve occasionally changed academic regalia or it’s just one more factoid that has escaped my memory, but I read with interest the explanations inside the program. Graduation robes and regalia date to the Middle Ages, it says, and gowns were black to hide ink stains from daily note-taking and text-copying with quill pens. Another triumph of laptop computers.

Standard medieval dress was long black gowns with hoods pulled up from the shoulders as needed to keep either sun or rain off the wearer. By the Renaissance, says the booklet, hats replaced hoods. Most of them were soft flat bags like a tam. Larger ones were stiffened with cardboard to keep them from falling down in the academic’s eyes.

In 18th century Oxford, poor students asked the tailors to use as little fabric as possible, and soon the cardboard was all that remained. Since they look a bit like the boards masons carried on their heads, the term “mortarboard” came into use.

Students and teachers alike wore cap and gown for lectures and formal college functions into the 19th century. Hoods became more colorful, representing a particular college or degree. Those tassels worn on mortarboards? Nothing very mysterious there. They were for decoration, and start on the left side of the cap so as not to block the wearer’s view of the writing hand. Presumably they get flipped to the right in the euphoria that the days of cap and gown are over, or just to let the world know they have graduated.

Congratulations, Abigail. You’ve made your third set of grandparents proud of you (although not proud enough to help with the moving.)

We can only imagine how proud your mom would be. I know you have her blessings from above.