2001-07-11 - 11:52 p.m.

That Thin Envelope

Here is a subject that I haven't talked about before.

I graduated from college twenty years ago this past May, but Lily has yet to complete her undergraduate degree. Her pervious schooling was interrupted before she moved up here with me.

In the last year she took two semesters at a local Community College, and she did this to be able to transfer to a four year college.

Actually, she has a very specific four year college in mind.

Right down the road from the Hamster Palace is Liberty College. That's not its real name, but it's pretty close. The college logo features an old-style Liberty Head, the sort of thing you'd see on a U.S. coin of the early 1800s. Small wonder - the college is over 200 years old.

Liberty college is prestigious, just under Ivy League ranking. I think the only thing that kept it out of that elite company is that it is rather smaller than the other Ivy League schools.

And, wonder of wonders, I am a legacy there. My father's father graduated from Liberty with a degree in Civil Engineering in 1911. Yup! Ninety years ago!

Because Lily doesn't currently have a car this college is ideal - she can walk to classes. And frankly, for what she is studying for this is probably the best college within a hundred mile radius.

The transfer application process has been interminable. Just when Lily thought she had everything squared away she'd get a new letter requesting some transcript or bit of information about her finances.

Today I went down to the store to pick up the mail, and there was an envelope from Liberty College for Lily. It was ordinary letter size and from what I could tell only contained one or two folded up pieces of paper.

While there was every chance that this was just another request for more information, somehow I KNEW that this was the final verdict.

I felt a sinking feeling. What is it they say? If it's a big fat envelope it's an acceptance, but if it's a small, thin envelope it's a rejection.

I was tempted to tear it open right there and then, but the letter wasn't addressed to me. It was only fair that Lily be the one to open it, whatever news it contained. I hurried upstairs with it.

I tried not to think about what this letter meant. If Lily's transfer got rejected, the best she could do was go to the state school 15 miles away, which would be a fearsome commute for yours truly to make four times a day. It also was not nearly as good a school.

When I got upstairs I found Lily seated at my computer, where I am sitting right now. I handed her the letter, and she pulled it open. There was a single sheet of paper inside, and with me looking over her shoulder, she began to read it.

The letter began:

Good news: the Admissions Committee has completed its review of your transfer application and we hope you will join us here at Liberty!

And then my vision suddenly got too blurry to read the rest.

You can bet there was much whooping and hollering after that.

As it turns out, you get a thin envelope whether you are accepted or not: the letter mentioned that a full registration package would arrive in a day or two in another envelope.

Then something surprising happened. I went in the bedroom to lie down, and then I started to cry. I still don't know why. Was it because I was relieved? Happy? I'm not sure. I don't think I felt sad.

It certainly is a good thing that Lily got into Liberty, that can't be doubted. However, her finally getting into a four year school is only the next step in her education. To get the degree she wants Lily will have to go to graduate school, and that means she will probably have to go out of the area.

That brings up some tough questions. I probably can't move to follow her. Can we survive a long distance relationship? I think we can, but then again other people have thought that too, and they weren't able to.

But these are questions for another day. Right now Lily and I are going out to dinner, because tonight is a night for celebrating.