The illuminated face of the clocktower on campus stood out in sharp contrast to the
dawning salmon-colored sky, a familiar morning sillouette.
I was on my way into the city when I saw it off in the distance and thought, “that’s your new nightlight.”
In my mind, I imagined you sleeping, possibly dreaming of good things, simple things.
I pray that your sleep somehow rejuvenates you and enables you to focus on your days. I’m still not used to the fact that you’ve embarked on yet another phase of your life. Maybe it’s something I’ll never get totally used to.
I don’t know.
I see fathers walking through the Common, hand in hand with their tiny daughters, and I wonder if they know enough to cherish these days because in the blink of an eye, they’re committed to memory.
I admit that my sentimentality is a bit unusual in this day and age of men made of apathetic stone. But I don’t apologize for it. I just recognize it and let the chips fall where they may.
Off to the east I can see the orange ball of burning gas rising and I realize that another day is just beginning.
For today, I pray that you learn; and that something surprises you and makes you suddenly smile; and as always, I pray you remain safe. I pray…