Finding Your Feet: part one

All I have to say is WOW has my life spun off in a million different directions!

Per my most recent post (which admittedly was eons ago) the end of my senior year was even more of a whirlwind than the typical dramatics of your average college senior grasping to their final days as an undergrad, over the next few posts I will explain just how out of  control my life became...

Rewind a bit to the beginning of all the chaos and we arrive at May 12, 2013 when the Boston College Eagles traveled to Clemson, South Carolina to compete at the 2013 ACC Rowing Championships. This race was the culmination of all the hard work and time we put in throughout the year to be the fastest BC Women’s Rowing has ever been. Not only was ACC’s our last and final in-season race, but it was myself and my fellow seniors’ last in-season competitive collegiate race…ever.  

The weekend was a roller coaster of emotion to say the least. Reflecting on 4 years of collegiate rowing, and almost 7 years of rowing in total- I am astonished by the innumerable, irreplaceable aspects of my life which are attributed to the sport of rowing. One thing in particular that I can say without a doubt in my mind: there is nothing in the world that has brought more incredibly amazing, genuine and sincere people into my life- people who are and forever will be family to me- than rowing has.

While ACC’s was the last time I would compete in a regulation NCAA Division 1 Collegiate Race, it was not the last time I would compete as an Eagle…we’ll get to that in part two…

The race, while UVA took the W...no surprise there- was one of the most emotional, and memorable races of my career and I wouldn't have wanted to share it with anyone other than the 8 girls who were in the boat with me. ACC's is a somewhat interesting experience for us because unlike the other races we compete at which are 2-3 days, ACC's is a one shot deal. You line up against your competition one time and see how the cards fall. With a race like that it wasn't long before we found ourselves on a plane back to Beantown again, with memories to last us a lifetime.
 
 We touched down in Boston having just ended our collegiate rowing careers, with just one week to go before we found ourselves dawning the cap and gown for graduation-myself and my best friends were eager to celebrate.

However, moments after we got home my life came to a screeching halt when my dad and brother showed up at school to deliver the world’s worst news. My Papa, Edward Spellman- one of the most influential figures in my life, had fallen and was in critical care at Mass General Hospital.

Papa was an extraordinary man, and even extraordinary doesn’t do him justice. At 89 years old he had just decided to stop working and really retire, he was healthy as a horse and just as witty as ever. He lived by himself in the same 3 story house where my mother spent part of her childhood, he still covertly handed my brother and I a $5.00 bill every time he saw us, as if he was breaking the law by doing so, he still called my brother Drew, “Sam” a joke that has carried on since we were toddlers, and he still made my mother smile like no one in the world could.  

As the years went by Papa’s walk slowly crept down to a shuffle, and the time it took to get from place to place grew longer- he had always told us the same incredible stories of his past but he began repeating them more often in a night. However, there was no story he repeated more often at the dinner table in my home than his memories of selling papers at the BC Football Games when he was a kid, and if there was anything my mom wanted- it was for Papa to be able to sit in the stands at Alumni Stadium and watch me graduate from Boston College.

That Sunday night, as I stood in the parking lot at school having been told the news of his fall- just one week from graduation, I was heartbroken by my fear that he might not make it back to Alumni Stadium for a trip down memory lane after all.

I spent the next 4 days waking up every morning and hopping on the green line, switching to the orange line at Park Street and eventually making my way to Mass General Hospital. The one week of the year that was supposed to be filled with events celebrating the end of my undergraduate career was no longer a celebration. That week- there was no place in the world I would have rather been than by his side during that time- after all, he had stood by mine for my entire life.

May 15, 2013 Papa passed away, and while I had been mentally and emotionally preparing myself throughout the week for the eventual outcome- I have never felt a more gut-wrenching heartache like that in my entire life. The weekend was spent honoring his legacy as best we could, with a beautiful service. I was surrounded by some of the most amazing and supportive people in my life, and my family said our final goodbyes to Papa. My eyes fill with tears as I write this because out of all the lessons I learned from Papa, it’s that there is nothing in the world more important than family- and family members go beyond your blood. Edward Spellman would put anyone of his loved ones before himself and he would do absolutely anything to help them- but above all he loved and cared for us with all he had, and in turn taught us how to love and care just as deeply.

After the services, and the week that seemed to last forever was finally through- I found it incredibly difficult to refocus on graduation. It seemed wrong to shift to a time of celebration when he couldn’t be there to join us, but as I was reminded by my supportive, loving and caring boyfriend- it was a time to celebrate his life and celebrate the amazing person he was. Papa would have wanted me to enjoy graduation- as much as it seemed wrong to enjoy it without him.

Graduation Day, which all week had been forecasted to rain- was absolutely gorgeous and consequently unbearably hot. Watching from the stands on the big day- along with my mom, dad, and my brother- were my dad’s parents (my Gramps even flew in from California,) my boyfriend Sean, and his mother who is an incredibly important person in my life- they all made it to graduation- and Papa did too- hence the 'out of the blue sunshine' the class of 2013 was able to enjoy.

It’s so cliché to say “big day,” yet when describing a graduation somehow it is the first descriptor we come to.  However, it was quite a day, consisting of unbearably hot temperatures, hours of enduring long winded speeches, recitation of a list of names that seemed to go on forever (when your last name begins with a J in a class of over 2000, 90 degree temperatures sitting on a turf field in a black cap and gown becomes the most epic form of torture imaginable), the last minute shuffle of move out, and at last, all my things piled into the truck, diploma in hand… I was done. 4 years and two schools later… I made it!

Now, after potentially boring you with my Memoir of May  I would really love to be able to say, “And the rest was history…”-but in fact as summer began my adventures only became more out of this world.
 

A 3 week jaunt to Europe with my amazing teammates.

A new puppy named Charlie.

& my first real world job.

It felt like there was no time to breathe before the next chapter of my life began, but I was ready for it… or so I thought!