The Words

A Presence at the Lectern

I attended my fiancée's graduation ceremony, as I'd intended well before her asking if I would mind terribly much, since she had no one else to ask. But before I witnessed her receive her diploma, I was surprised to see her walk across the stage to address the rest of her graduating class, where she became an intense, mesmerizing presence at the lectern. Of course, I knew she did well at school and was aware she would graduate near the top, if not first in her class. But I didn't recall her mentioning that she would be a featured speaker at her commencement. It was a reminder of how much more of her there was than merely the tall, stunning, sometimes shy, self-conscious young woman who, for some incomprehensible reason, chose to be my girlfriend, now fiancée, soon to be wife.

She told her fellow graduates that not only did she dream of accomplishing something special and demanded nothing less of herself, but she also hoped they each had their own dreams and would accomplish extraordinary things as well. And, based on the comments I heard afterward from the few of her professors who were present, she was not alone in expecting her to accomplish extraordinary things. They remained, however, unaware of her specific dream, of which she'd decided by the end of her first year, it would serve her better not to share her intentions so freely. And I departed more than well informed of how fortunate I was to be marrying such an exceptional young woman, accompanied by the familiar, silent expressions of: "How the hell did you pull that off?"

One of these gentlemen told me, "My boy, you have far outkicked your coverage."

The friend, who'd soon be my best man, explained to me later that this was a football reference, that a punt that carried too far downfield stretched out the defense and was more likely to result in a long return by the opponents. Okay. Yes. I was well aware I was out of my depth, thank you very much. And, since hearing her speak at her graduation, I questioned again what she could see in me. She was someone special and deserved to be with someone special.

To which she listened when I expressed these thoughts, then told me, "You refuse to give yourself enough credit. I believe that you will do something special, too."

"Really?" I asked with a self-deprecating laugh. "Such as?"

"You will make us both rich," she reminded me.

"That's right," I replied, "I forget that you're marrying me for my money."

"Absolutely," she admitted, wearing a humorless, stoic expression, adding, "And, other assets," as her face brightened with a wicked smile. She suggested, again, that we could skip our planned celebratory dinner, dash back to her dorm and enjoy tying the ribbon she'd stolen from her ex-roommate on the doorknob one last time. It may be a while before we had another opportunity to spend time together, alone and naked. Maybe not again until after our wedding.