It's over
The speech, for those who wanted a copy:
Sometimes it seems like just yesterday that we were starting high school, sitting in the auditorium together as a class for the first time; just yesterday that we were sitting through classes in rooms filled with exhaust from the construction of the addition; just yesterday that we all wrote our names on the wall of room 204, just to have to bleach the wall after we found out it would still be part of the library. I kind of think it would have put a good touch on the library, having all our names there on the wall. Oh well. Sometimes it seems like not too long ago that we were coming together as a class for the first time in junior high, learning the true values of scales of 1 to 10; not too long ago that we were starting our first day of school; not too long ago that we were in kindergarten and preschool, learning the true values of snack time and nap time and how to draw inside the lines. Sometimes that staying inside the lines thing can be pretty difficult.
It really was not too long ago, just a few days ago, that we were sitting on the beach, together as a class for, aside from right now, the last time. You never know what you might find on the beach, what the tide might bring in. Usually it’s just seaweed and pebbles, nothing special. Sometimes a rusty nail might wash up in the waves, hiding in the sand for you to step on. What’s important, though, is to sort through the seaweed and find the gold that washes up too…just make sure to avoid the rusty nails - they kind of hurt, and have an odd tendency to give you tetanus.
Sunsets over the ocean are always nice to watch. While they do announce the ending of a day, there will always be a sunrise after the night passes. It’s usually not as cool though, most of the time it doesn’t have the whole over the ocean thing going for it, and well, sunrises over a parking lot just really don’t cut it. Now, the sun is setting over our ocean. Tomorrow, there will be a sunrise, but this time it will be over the ocean, too. A new ocean. An ocean which we no longer sit and watch together, waves that no longer wash up the same things for us all, and currents that carry us down our separate paths. As we wander about and through this ocean being newly independent, we do so with a collection of shared memories of our old ocean - memories that make us unique and unite us as one. Memories of beginnings and ends; of flickage and jubbajubbaju’s; of roights and noices; of the lounge; of up-kicks and up-b’s; of frisbee and tires and hording chairs; of our music; of benches that could obviously never hold more than four people - I mean, look at them, it’s obvious they might break or something; memories of after 12 years of school, spending three hours yesterday learning how to walk; memories of beaches and proms - memories which will never die.
Now, I leave you with one more thing to remember. Those who know the ocean can make the current take them where they please. It’s up to you to find out where that is, to find out what is truly important.
Sometimes it seems like just yesterday that we were starting high school, sitting in the auditorium together as a class for the first time; just yesterday that we were sitting through classes in rooms filled with exhaust from the construction of the addition; just yesterday that we all wrote our names on the wall of room 204, just to have to bleach the wall after we found out it would still be part of the library. I kind of think it would have put a good touch on the library, having all our names there on the wall. Oh well. Sometimes it seems like not too long ago that we were coming together as a class for the first time in junior high, learning the true values of scales of 1 to 10; not too long ago that we were starting our first day of school; not too long ago that we were in kindergarten and preschool, learning the true values of snack time and nap time and how to draw inside the lines. Sometimes that staying inside the lines thing can be pretty difficult.
It really was not too long ago, just a few days ago, that we were sitting on the beach, together as a class for, aside from right now, the last time. You never know what you might find on the beach, what the tide might bring in. Usually it’s just seaweed and pebbles, nothing special. Sometimes a rusty nail might wash up in the waves, hiding in the sand for you to step on. What’s important, though, is to sort through the seaweed and find the gold that washes up too…just make sure to avoid the rusty nails - they kind of hurt, and have an odd tendency to give you tetanus.
Sunsets over the ocean are always nice to watch. While they do announce the ending of a day, there will always be a sunrise after the night passes. It’s usually not as cool though, most of the time it doesn’t have the whole over the ocean thing going for it, and well, sunrises over a parking lot just really don’t cut it. Now, the sun is setting over our ocean. Tomorrow, there will be a sunrise, but this time it will be over the ocean, too. A new ocean. An ocean which we no longer sit and watch together, waves that no longer wash up the same things for us all, and currents that carry us down our separate paths. As we wander about and through this ocean being newly independent, we do so with a collection of shared memories of our old ocean - memories that make us unique and unite us as one. Memories of beginnings and ends; of flickage and jubbajubbaju’s; of roights and noices; of the lounge; of up-kicks and up-b’s; of frisbee and tires and hording chairs; of our music; of benches that could obviously never hold more than four people - I mean, look at them, it’s obvious they might break or something; memories of after 12 years of school, spending three hours yesterday learning how to walk; memories of beaches and proms - memories which will never die.
Now, I leave you with one more thing to remember. Those who know the ocean can make the current take them where they please. It’s up to you to find out where that is, to find out what is truly important.