Abby's Best Present
Some Christmas seasons are peaceful and full of reflection -- a deep breath inhaled slowly as the world falls asleep in the darkness.
This season has been full-throttle, whack-a-doodle, anxiety-ridden nuts.
And long.
Besides piling on Christmas preparations, a massive remodeling project and buying a pickup, I’ve been holding my breath for my daughter, Abby.
College looms large.
Last winter she started investigating potential universities.
She had two criteria for her school of choice: It had to have a good kinesiology program and be in a warm place.
She wants to learn about how exercise improves our mental health and how taking care of ourselves empowers us to try difficult tasks.
Also, she wants to toss her long johns into the garbage.
Abby’s criteria eliminated every university in the northern tier of the U.S.
A quick online search revealed Rice University in Houston and University of Georgia in Athens met her criteria.
It turns out that applying to universities is different now from when I applied.
My friend, Mary, told me that now parents take their kids to visit colleges before they even apply.
I didn’t think visits were necessary, but Mary knows these things.
Last summer Abby and I drove across the South, visiting four campuses from Texas to Georgia.
While we were at Rice, I felt like we were inside a big hug. The professors we interviewed were warm and caring, too.
Rice seemed like a perfect fit for Abby.
University of Georgia felt completely opposite to me. I did not convert to the Dawgs religion.
But I bit my tongue. I’m pretty sure this is a new record for keeping my mouth shut.
Rice University strives for a diverse student body. One application question asked Abby to explain how she might be different from other students, yet capable of succeeding.
Abby set the stage with a blizzard during calving season.
She described the layers upon layers of clothes she donned after I called her asking for help with a cold newborn calf.
She mentioned the heft of the calf that she helped me carry across a creek in 30-below temperatures and how water filled her boots when she crashed through the ice.
She recounted shoveling snow from around the pickup exhaust pipe so we could start the truck and warm two calves.
She touched on her inability to feel her frostbitten toes until she got back to the house about 10 p.m.
She concluded that this was the day she realized she needed to expand her horizons beyond Montana – preferably to some place warm.
She submitted her application on October 17.
Acceptance and rejection notifications would go out before January 3.
We had at least 60 long days of crossing our fingers and holding our breath.
Periodic emails from Rice encouraged applicants but downplayed the chance of success. Most applicants would not be accepted.
No high school student from Conrad had ever attended Rice University.
Her fall semester grades would impact Rice’s decision, so she buried herself in biology and anatomy – two of her most difficult classes.
Silently, I rejected Abby’s University of Georgia backup plan, but didn’t have my own.
Last Monday an email from Rice said the wait was almost over.
Notifications would be posted on Thursday at 4 p.m.
By Wednesday evening, Abby’s brain was fried.
Neither of us slept well that night.
On Thursday, Abby came straight home from school.
I found some busy work for us to do together until 4 p.m.
At 4:01, Abby logged into her computer.
The letter began:
Dear Abigail, Congratulations!
Abby screamed and started crying.
Christmas came early this year.
Peaceful reflection will have to wait until next year. We are too busy celebrating.