See Ya Never, 2020

March 12 was a weird day. I woke up to a phone call from my future supervisor offering me my top choice of an internship at UVA. I was going to grad school. Right then and there I decided I was going to UVA, and I immediately texted my family and got so excited. I even took a picture to announce what I was doing next. But something was off. The night before Rudy Gobert tested positive for coronavirus, and the NBA was put to a halt. The SEC basketball tournament abruptly stopped. My history class had been canceled because my professor was in Nashville to watch Alabama play, but he never got to see the Tide that day. My dad and I slowly began canceling our plans to go to Florida that weekend for our annual trip to Orlando/Clearwater. We were still told not to worry in class. “It’s not that big of a deal.” Quickly other SEC schools began extending their spring break, and we joked that Alabama would never cancel classes. We would be the National Champions of the Coronavirus. But that night Alabama made the call to extend spring break. We were told we’d be coming back, but it still felt like the end. 

On March 13, I cried. A lot. I cried right before I would give my last ever ambassador tour. I cried leaving my tour. I cried saying goodbye to the friends who hadn’t left yet. Most of them had left since it was about to be spring break. I cried eating my last meal at Theta, and I cried on my drive back to Georgia, not knowing when I would see Tuscaloosa again. I also cried during my extended spring break more times that I could count, falling into a depressive state. I knew my circumstances were a lot better than others. I had a home, food, and WiFi to do online school with both my parents and sister at home. But I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of my senior year. So much of my senior year had been focused on getting into grad school, and I kept telling myself that if I could get to Spring Break, I would have fun after. I would have fun at my last two date parties. Senior celebrations. Graduation. I had it all planned out, and suddenly, things I didn’t expect to be my lasts were. Finishing up your senior year from your childhood bedroom is weird. I spent my time completing my senior capstone for PR. (We won!) I conquered GBA 490 without getting to celebrate at Houndstooth for a shot. (If you know, you know...) And then I turned my tassels on my graduation cap once again in my childhood bedroom. I did get to officially move out of Theta a few days after what would have been my graduation date. I said goodbye with a Buffalo Phil’s picnic on the Quad with one of my littles, and the best roommate I could have asked for my senior year took my grad photos. Not the ending I expected, but a good one.