The Promise of See You Later

If you’re reading this, more than likely there is someone near and dear to you graduating this weekend. They may be a family member, coworker, or in my case, some of your best friends. As the graduates strolled across the stages to receive their diplomas, their identity changed from “current student” to “alum.”

There are a lot of different emotions between that identity change. These new alums leave behind classmates, friends, and professors as they take the next step pursuing their new lives, forming families and careers. This next phase of life may place them in a new city, state, or country, but regardless, they are placed in a new state of mind. 
 
There will be more responsibilities, more stress, more bills, a 9-5 workday, and more of those god-forsaken student loan payments, all coming at a salary that is slightly larger than an intern. All these things require a healthy community and camaraderie to build up against these outside pressures and stressors, and to be frank, that community is going to be harder to come by in the early stages of adulthood. 
 
So, what do we say to these new grads? Based on the prior knowledge, the future seems bleak. There will be heightened forms of anxiety coming at all sides. Graduation may not be as beautiful as it originally seemed, does it? Life is hard, and life is starting to get real. 
 
So, graduates and friends of graduates, there will be a recurring phrase that rolls off the tongue this weekend that carries accountability, remembrance, and faith. It’s a phrase we say all the time and often forget its importance: see you later.
 
When my family would travel two and a half hours to my grandparents’ house, we were always in for a treat. We would shout at the screen watching football. We would chow down on the tons of food Grandma would prepare for us, and before they took it down, Abigail, Isaac and I would swing again and again on the swing set. There would be talks at the hot tub in whatever the weather. When it was around Christmas time, the fire pit would come out in addition to the essential utensils for s’more making. The memories I continue draw back on are the laughs, so many laughs. 
 
The sad part about these trips is that they would come to an end. The bags would have to be repacked and thrown into the trunk. After the rounds of hugs given to Grandma and Grandpa, all seven members of the Sanders family would pile into the car, slam the doors shut, and put the car in reverse. With weather permitting, my siblings would roll down the window and begin to shout, “Goodbyeeeeee!!! Love you! See you later! See you soon!”
 
We knew for a fact that we would see Grandma and Grandpa again. It might not be that often, but during summers, birthdays, or the holiday season, a trip up to Fort Smith, Arkansas, was in the cards. Even though we might replay the Von Trapp family’s “So Long, Farewell,” or attach an “alligator” after the words, our grandparents also knew that we were coming back. We didn’t always know it, but the heaping “see you later’s” carried a hope to return. 
 
Moving through the crowds of people on the way to shake hands and hug your gal pals and buddies, graduates will repeat that same sentence. See you later. In some situations, it will be followed by some laughs, tears, and a photo op holding up the fancy new pieces of paper they spent three to four years working towards. But that phrase bears a lot of weight, and oftentimes like my younger self, we miss it. 
 
When we say see you later, there’s a promise. Behind every good-bye is a fluctuating level of ambiguity and a couple of unanswered questions. Will we see each other again? Is this friendship going to continue? What are we going to do now? Those questions are different with “see you later.” The semantics change a little bit. When are we seeing each other again? How long can we go without seeing each other? What are we gonna do next, together?
 
As the non-graduate writing this story, there is a responsibility to follow up on the see you later’s of my own. Just because life is changing doesn’t mean that I have to leave my graduating friends high and dry. See you later means that this friendship isn’t over, and a new chapter is beginning to be written. See you later means that these graduates aren’t going into the stresses of adult life alone. When the see you later is returned, the trust is reciprocated, and the hope to rekindle past memories and forge new ones is alive and well. 
 
To my graduating friends, these next few years are going to be difficult. But behind every see you later is the desire to come alongside you and support your every step into adulthood. Come next fall, college campuses will be different, no doubt. Next May, I will be strolling across the stage to get my diploma. But let’s not dwell on that, because I have some see you later’s to write.
 
To Noah McCallum, my best friend, see you later. 
 
To Anna Roussel, my political science partner in crime, see you later.
 
To Scott Gay, my constant supplier of jokes and funny memories, see you later. 
 
To Ethan Marshall, Ryan York, Ben Morris, and Harry Jeffrey, my Eta brothers forever, see you later.
 
To Becca Janke, Maddie Bailey, Mitchell Waite, Sean McKinney, Ben Blocker, and all my other graduating friends, see you later.
 
These next few months will not come easy for any of us. As a consistent crier, tears will be shed. But if I learned anything from these graduates, it is that life changes, but God provides people in this life to show us his presence and shine the glory of Christ a little bit brighter. 

As Dora closed every episode, "Adios, amigos. See you soon."