On Saturday. May 30, my grandson received his bachelor’s degree from Cleveland State University (CSU) in a virtual graduation ceremony.  For him it was a great achievement and represented long hours of preparation and work.  His degree is in computer science with a minor in mathematics.

 

Graduation!

May 30, many of us will remember, was the date on which Memorial Day used to be celebrated.  I remember some of my parents’ generation called it Decoration Day. That day families went to the cemetery to decorate the graves of the war dead.

For my parent’s generation, the war dead were near and numerous, not theoretical.  World Wars I and II in some way touched every family and Memorial Day was somber, not the beginning of summer as it is now.

Graduations used to come in June, and took place before large happy crowds of people.  This virtual graduation event was certainly the first of its kind for the university.

A Virtual Graduation

My husband and I sat in front of the zoom screen on my computer and listened to remarks by the president of the university, the mayor, the lieutenant governor of Ohio, and several previous CSU graduates. I was able to locate my grandson’s major department on the computer screen.

The names of all computer science graduates marched across the screen individually, with appropriate graduation day background music. When my grandson’s name arrived, we saw a video of him, in cap and gown, looking very happy. He smiled and thanked his parents and grandparents for help and support.

We have attended many graduations, and this was the first one where we heard every speaker and actually saw the face of the graduate. It reminded me of my daughter’s graduation from a small college outside Richmond, VA. Then we sat in folding chairs on a field on a very hot day, quite far from an outdoor stage. Nearby, a level railroad crossing bisected the town.

Amtrak kept its schedule that day.  Fairly frequently, a train came through the town at a slow speed, blowing its whistle all the way. We barely heard any of the speeches, but we did see our daughter at a distance.

My grandson is now a graduate and I’m grateful for the computer and zoom.  We were able to join the family electronically that evening to congratulate him.

Another Graduation Day: Me and Lymphoma

My grandson is not the only member of our family to face some final test results this early summer.  On Thursday, I am scheduled for a mammogram.  Two years ago a mammogram led to a diagnosis of an aggressive type of lymphoma for which I was treated over six months and for which I have undergone numerous lab tests and PET scans.

The doctor?

 

 

While I’m of the age that I may have avoided a mammogram two years ago, for some reason I didn’t.  My radiologist found something funky on the picture and that led to biopsies, CAT scans and further lab tests and scans. After three months the doctors came up with the lymphoma diagnosis.

I can’t say I’m looking forward to the mammogram, nor am I looking forward to a PET scan now scheduled for July. The PET scan is sort of a graduation day for me.  If they find nothing, I will be considered cured with no further tests or medical procedures.

For me, none of this will be virtual.  The tests will be done according to normal procedures and the results will either be good or bad.

 

Graduation, Old People and Old Jokes

As the grandmother of a college graduate, I am an old person.  Here is a story about old people:

“Six retired Floridians were playing poker in the condo clubhouse when Meyerwitz loses $500 on a single hand and drops dead at the table. Showing respect for their fallen partner, the other five continue playing standing up.  Finkelstein looks around and asks, “So, who’s gonna tell his wife?”

They draw straws.  Goldberg picks the short one.  They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don’t make a bad situation worse.

“Discreet? I’m the most discreet person you’ll ever meet. Discretion is my middle name. Leave it to me.”

Goldberg proceeds to the Meyerwitz apartment and knocks on the door.  The wife answers and asks what he wants.

Goldberg declares, “Your husband just lost $500 and is afraid to come home.”

“Tell him to drop dead,” says the wife!

“I’ll go tell him,” says Goldberg.