Love thee, Notre Dame.

I guess it's time for that backstory I was avoiding. Long story short, came back to Notre Dame for grad school after graduating in 2004. Re-joined the Folk Choir this year, since it was one of reasons on a long list of pros to coming back. Also on said list were: Nicholas Tonozzi (see bmancini's blog for more on this subject), Michael VandenBoom, Eric Buell and Paul Van Leeuwen. Aside from the obvious ethnic diversity (one Italian, one Filipino and two Dutchmen) these four gentlemen have each, in their own way, touched my life in a manner that renewed my joy and grounded my spirit. I think that's all I want to say about them right now, because I'm starting to get mushy.

In fact, that was the point of this entry. Notre Dame, as part of its Commencement festivities, has a gathering of the senior class at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, the large church on campus. It's a chance for the class to share stories and pray together in this space one last time (since Baccalaureate is in a converted arena) before relocating to the Grotto (of "Rudy" fame, and absolutely central to the daily faith and prayer life of the Notre Dame student body, Catholic and nonCatholic alike) to receive a commission from the University, a blessing of their class rings, and a solemn blessing on their lives. It's kind of a big deal.

Anyway, the Folk Choir sings at this event, and this is where the waterworks come in. I came in with this year's crop of seniors. As a freshman and a sophomore, I was in the Notre Dame Chorale, and auditioned for the Folk Choir only to be gently turned away. And then for some reason, in the spring of 2003 (during this class's freshman year) I wasn't rejected. I think it was good karma from having told Eric where he could go to audition, well before I made it. So I've never been in the loft without this group of men. Last year I was working, but it was like being abroad, which most of them were at one point or another in the year. And so tonight in the loft, having already said goodbye to them once, I watched as they struggled through their own "Last Visit." I listened with pride to them singing their solos, keeping it together long enough to finish and then breaking down.

I think perhaps I'm getting more personal than I want to get. I thought it might make good reading, maybe be cathartic to put into the world what I'm feeling right now. But these feelings are not a culmination that can be shared because it's finished. I think this ache in my chest and in my throat is not sadness at an ending, but a kind of bittersweet joy at beginnings, the foundations of which I have been privileged to help lay. And so I don't think I'm going to share the rest of these memories. I'm going to wrap them in a mental handkerchief monogramed with a P, and tuck them into the back of my memory, to take out again later and enjoy.

Class of 2006, it has been my honor to have shared in your time at Notre Dame. God bless and keep you all.