Last year I had to say goodbye to my dog because he was moving to the Bronx to work. It shredded my heart to have to give up Nugget, but we had trained him to be a guiding eyes dog, so we always knew we would eventually have to see him leave.
We had tried to pour a lifetime of love into two-and-a-half years, but that did not make it any less difficult to look into his ever-mournful Labrador eyes and hug his wiggly body one last time. When I tell people about Nugget, their most common response is, "How could you give up your dog?" And it's true; how could we do that?
The answer is that Nugget will be adding so much good to the world, how could we not give him up? He is not only the eyes for his new owner, but he is also a friend, companion and confidante.
Fear of the sadness we would face once Nugget left could have kept us from wanting to raise him, but how could we deny ourselves an opportunity of greatness? With Nugget, the sadness is outweighed by the bliss of raising him and the joy of being able to give someone such an important gift.
And really we are all living a series of Nugget-style sojourns. The seeming tragedy of earthly life is that everything eventually ends. We were lucky to know that we had 32 months with Nugget, and we seniors are lucky to know that we have another few weeks at Duke.
More often than not, however, we don't know when our time somewhere, doing something or with someone will end. I've always regretted that my favorite English teacher died before I wrote him a letter telling him about his impact on my life.
James Dean once said, "Dream as though you'll live forever, live as though you'll die today." I want to tattoo that on my soul because I am constantly struggling to truly apply it to my life.
One of my favorite stories about my parents is that when they were first married they bought a boat even though they did not have any savings. They had come across a really great sale, so they decided--despite a lot of advice to the contrary--that they should borrow money and buy a speedboat. It acted as a tool for building a strong marriage because the enjoyment they experienced from it has lasted through their years together.
In many ways I am talking about "carpe diem," but what does that really mean? I think it means even more than just cherishing time with the dog you have to give up, telling people how you feel about them or buying a boat on a whim. I think it also has to do with learning what you need to seize in your days.
My friends and I have the tradition of gathering together on someone's bed (usually whichever of us is the least able to get up) and talking through the events of the night before. Although superficially this is just our favorite gossip time, it's also when we explore our experiences; analyze ourselves and our relationships and finally, examine our world. For me, part of learning how to seize my days has been learning to make time for the outwardly insignificant activities that make a difference in me.
But there are also the significant activities that I need to seize. The Chronicle has been one such pursuit in that the more I engaged myself in it, the more growing and learning I experienced. I must admit that I have learned more in 301 Flowers than in all of my Duke classes combined. But that education came with the price of giving up endless hours when I could have been studying, relaxing or pursuing the seemingly insignificant. I am still learning that seizing the day is also coping with the tug of polar opposites: making time for and enjoying the small, but getting involved with and pursuing the big. How do I make time to loll in the gardens or sprawl on a bench watching the movement of campus while I am trying to run a news department?
So as I wade into the real world next year, I'll be struggling to balance the big and the little while I fight the emotional fear that I might get hurt if I seize certain opportunities. But ultimately the question will be: What would I wish I had done today if tomorrow is not how I plan?
Christine Parkins is a city & state senior associate editor and associate Towerview editor. She would like to thank her family, The Chronicle, the Deerfield crew, the flip-cup boys and the moochachees for giving her experiences to seize.
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