Uncensored, Unedited Joy, Rapture

Yesterday my diploma was handed to me by renowned poet and memoirist, Toi Derricotte, whose brilliantly written The Black Notebooks was assigned reading in our memoir-writing class last year.  If only some of her talent and courage could have rubbed off on me during that handshake and quick kiss on the cheek, then I would forever be one happy University of Pittsburgh graduate!  It doesn’t get any better than this.

Dad is here, my son Nicholas is here and my Jeffrey is here.  Last night, I dined with friends and family, received hugs and presents, and slowly savored a pistachio crème brulee for dessert, which topped off a perfectly broiled fillet.  It doesn’t get any better than this.

Today, I’m piling everyone in the car so we can toot around the city, explore the river banks and take rides up and down Pittsburgh’s inclines that are crowned with the most brilliant view of the city imaginable.  It doesn’t get any better than this.

Tonight we dine at the Grand Concourse with an old family friend, the godson of my father’s best friend, who is a scout for the Pittsburgh Steelers; so I plan to poke, prod and pry to get the inside scoop on the weekend’s NFL draft.  During dessert, I am presenting dad with a hand-knitted, black-and-gold scarf (to go with his terrible towel I gave him last year), and making him an honorary Steelers fan.  It doesn’t get any better than this.

I think these are the most unforgettable two days I’ve experienced in my entire life and I know it’s only going to last another 24 hours, so I plan to savor, relish, love, memorize, freeze-frame every single, solitary moment of it.  I will seal these soon-to-be memories in an airtight container for permanent storage in a gray vault, which will be brought out and relived, whenever I need them.  And it doesn't get any better than that.