It's moving in day at the small liberal arts college down the street. When I drove down to the hardware store this morning I saw groups of students sitting in circles on the lawns, harried-looking parents with maps pulling suitcases, and felt a general current of expectancy in the air. It was pretty idyllic.
I often wonder why I look back on college with such nostalgia, and why, 23 years after I have graduated, those moments all remain so vivid to me. I can remember so much from my classes, from the Arena Theatre, from parties, from dining halls and the Quad and the library and dorms and the laundry and our apartment on Belknap Street. This is even more remarkable considering that, like many of my fellow students, I studied abroad my junior year (cue even more memories), and lived off-campus when I returned.
I'm really happy I chose Tufts. It was the ideal school for me — academically rigorous, but with a real-world element that encouraged me to learn and grow; maybe that's why the memories are so vivid. I'm proud that I still have many friends from those days. And I suppose the point is, that if I remember it so well, it's because it had a profound influence on me. It's the kind of influence I saw on those circle of students this morning.
On another nostalgic note, today would have been my mother's 74th birthday. Beatrix and I are sitting on the porch at the Summit house, and I think she would have approved of this perfect morning.