I sat in the stands at the side of the stadium, listening to idle conversations of families and students, watching all the graduates in their caps and gowns. I sat in the middle of the sea of people witnessing a level of carefree energy and excited nervousness. I felt the buzz of anticipation and relief circling around me as the students awaited what they’ve worked so hard for, the families there to celebrate.
I was so happy for my younger brother. Seeing him laughing with friends, wearing his first dress shirt and tie, and smiling so brightly brought an immense amount of joy to my heart. I felt pride as I looked at him, knowing the work he put in to get through high school and all the achievements he had. I am still in awe of his ability to connect with others and always enjoy himself. Tears came to my eyes as I was witnessing a monumental time in his life in which he got just a little bit older in spirit.
However, I had tears coming as grief also bubbled inside of me. I was part of the 2020 graduation class. My senior year came to a complete halt on March 16th as Colorado went into quarantine. I didn’t know it when I left that day, but I would never walk inside that school as a student again.
I lost my prom, my final spirit days, my last pep rally, and my walking graduation.
I am so grateful to the parents and faculty who tried their hardest to give us the small celebrations: a car parade, individual times to “walk” the stage, photos, and a student-organized senior sunset. Yet this doesn’t bring back all of the small moments I missed. I didn’t get the closure I deserve.
I realized in those 2 hours of watching my brother sitting in his graduation garb that I am still grieving. I didn’t get to have the night out at graduation, the last parties, the hugs goodbye, the prom photos, the fun chants.
I am still grieving over the fact that I didn’t get the last day of school.
I am still grieving over no more softball games.
I am still grieving over the smiles of my peers and the pictures that were never taken.
I didn’t realize it, but I am so heartbroken over what COVID took from me.
When the pandemic first started taking small moments away from me, I convinced myself it was okay. I told myself that worse things were happening and tried to find the silver lining in each situation because I couldn’t afford to fall apart. I told my parents not to worry about making up for what I lost, I told my friends that we saved time not watching 530 other students walk across a stage, and I told myself that all would be okay because I still had myself. This was also the time that my eating disorder became most insidious, and I enjoyed the freedom of walking, running, and going outside whenever I wanted. I had the isolation that the eating disorder thrived in. And amid all this positive thinking, I was closing my eyes to the fact that I was hurting and denied that I was sad.
I look at pictures from that time and think about how much I seized that freedom, not letting the time go to waste. But I also think about how lonely it was. I think about the fact that I have no closure with that time of my life because there was no finality to it all.
No, I didn’t have to give a great speech about my senior project, but I also didn’t get to hear about all of my peers’ grand ideas and triumphs. No, I didn’t have to sit through 2 hours of a ceremony, but I didn’t get to hear farewell speeches from teachers and say final goodbyes. No, I didn’t have to stress about finding a group for prom, but I didn’t get to dance in the dress I loved so much.
We all tried so hard to make the most out of those last moments of a pseudo-high school experience, but it isn’t the same as the real thing. I never saw fellow students again because Zoom classrooms weren’t available at that time. I never saw my teachers again because virtual learning was still in its early stages. My final projects were a mod podge of an assignment that took moments to create.
It was and still is sad. I am still grieving over it because I didn’t realize it until the moment I sat in the stadium seat for my brother’s graduation and watched beaming students receive the congratulations they so deserve.