Graduation day was perfect. Regardless of my lack of sleep due to my bar-hopping mom and aunt, I can say it was one of the happiest days of my life.

The main reason is that my family – my biggest supporters – made it. In addition to the sisters and my boyfriend, my dad, grandma, brother, sister-in-law and cousin carpooled from Fort Pierce to Gainesville in time for an early lunch before graduation. In the blur of my mom’s homemade lasagna, presents, pictures and plans, I realized today was possible only because the doctors at Shands here saved my grandma last December.

When I walked across the stage today, I looked out across the O’Connell Center to my family in the upper left corner. I pointed to them, waved and involuntarily broke into the Gators chomp. It wasn’t until after I hugged Prof. Mike Foley at the end of the stage and walked down the stairs that I realized the ridiculous show I just put on in front of hundreds of people with just my family in mind.

Today, I understood what it meant to be a part of the Gator nation. My neighbor and I decided last week that we would sit by each other at the ceremony because we said we didn’t really know anyone else. Yet we weren’t the only black-gowned grads surprised that we were saying hi to every other journalism major. Over the years, we’ve all run into each other in our different classes, so I won’t be surprised if I run into them out there in the real world now.

But the most exciting part for me was my family getting the chance to meet Prof. Foley and Boaz Dvir, my editor for the communigator and director of “Jessie’s Dad” (“The premiere of my editor’s documentary”). I took pictures with both of them at Weimer Hall’s crowded reception and then introduced them to everyone, referring to my grandma as “the one from my cover letter” (“My cover letter for as many eyes as possible”).

I promised both I would keep in touch. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like not being able to see them whenever I want. Thank God e-mail makes communication post-graduation easier.

I just couldn’t say goodbye, so I was upbeat with “see you later!” Instead of letting myself get emotional – minus my random teary breakdown from my parents’ musical card singing “My Next 30 Years” by Tim McGraw, much to the ridicule of my brother – I kept the quote my mom wrote in her last letter to me in mind:

“It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end.”