Where to start?
The mental gauntlet of feelings and emotions that my brain ran through over the past weekend were some of the most fierce of the last year.
We had a choreographed spot in the graduation program. Between the Master’s Degrees and the Bachelor’s presentations, we would be ushered onto the stage. Sarah from SIU Cares met us when we got to our seats in section 116 and made sure to review the order of events that had been emailed over. I was well informed and ready to go as I had screenshotted the email in an effort to be better about remembering names.
We were flagged to get in line behind the Master’s students and took our place off to the side of the stage. While we were standing there, reality started setting in. I was getting a little emotional. Tears were running down my cheeks at a pretty good clip. I have not cried this much, especially in public, in a while. (get this over with now so I am not dripping in front of thousands of graduates and parents!)
A young man who was in line ahead of us was queued up for his diploma turned to me and asked if he could see the framed photo I was holding. I held it up for him… And then said, “She was my daughter”. After a thoughtful moment of observation… The young man said, “I’m sorry for your loss”. I was very touched by this interaction. Everyone in line was quite jovial and full of energy as they were waiting their turn for the paper confirmation of their hard work. This guy taking a few seconds to acknowledge Summer meant a lot to me. Thank you, unknown student!!!
Our family unit was ushered to the stage a few minutes later. While standing in front of a nearly full Bantera Center for the 1 PM graduation ceremony… I lost focus on everyone in the arena but Angela, Aiden, and the Chancellor of SIU who was presenting Summer’s honorary degree. Angela and I were announced as the parents as we headed towards the stage… But Aiden came up with us as well. Ang and I held large pictures we brought while Aiden accepted the framed diploma.
We stood there like statues for a few seconds while something was said. I say this in all honesty, I saw, heard, and remember nothing. Someone told me later that a group of kids was clapping hard for Summer, but I didn’t hear it. I have received two videos from the moment, but I have not watched or listened to them. Too soon?
We headed towards the stairs down the front of the stage and made our way out. My tear ducts were dry, but I know my flushed face must have been a mask of wooden stoicism. My tear ducts had run dry as we took the stage. It was perfect timing.
Over a year ago, Angela and SIU have been talking about Summer’s course credits and how many more she needed to get her diploma. We thought she was closer… She had changed her major 2 years ago and her senior year was going to be chock full of classes to get her degree in Geography. Summer’s final classes in Geology Statistics and Horticulture over her last semester were never going to get her to graduation, but they did keep her busy (and off her TIKTOK) in two of the only classes that SIU could commit to remote learning. 
I remember so many days on that couch in Target House while we were in Memphis where Summer was on her laptop going over her horticulture assignments. She was so tired… Full of drugs… Saline and God knows what else… But she persevered in turning in assignments. Professor Schoof, her Geography Prof over the years, was also actively teaching, but I think his classes were live with other kids… And Summer participated in those while she was in her bedroom.
You can go back and read about the conversations we had about the importance of her schooling. “Dad? What if I only have 6 months to live?” she would say snarkily. “You’re getting your degree!” was my answer. As if accomplishing this would add value to her life? I only wanted to keep an eye on the horizon further than the cancer that was affecting her today.
June 27th, 2023, Professor Schoof reached out to me in a Twitter message and said he was pursuing a degree for Summer. It was 4 days after Summer had passed. I dont think I saw the message until a week later. We sent a few messages back and forth over the next few months and I put it to the side. When I had mentioned to Angela in those early days… She was very quick to dismiss this effort as unimportant. The bitterness of a life defeat like this did not become any less painful because of this.
When Prof Schoof and I finally met. We had minutes at graduation (before and after) and we talked about those feelings that ebb and flow about the value of the graduation. Speaking from the heart, I had to ask out loud, “Who is it for?” It feels flippant. Isn’t this just some kind of ego stroke for myself and Angela? How silly to put so much value in a ceremony and a piece of paper?
Justin (Prof Schoof) was quick to correct me. Summer’s pursuit of education even in the worst of times had affected her fellow students, his child, and other members of the staff in the earth sciences department. This diploma meant something to him and everyone at SIU who knew Summer. There is value in this beyond my perception. This was an eye-opening conversation for me.
I think Angela saw that as well. I know her disposition had changed during and after the ceremony and she had thanks for everyone at SIU and SIU Cares.
After we stepped down from the ceremony stage… Sarah VanVooren who was in contact with us from SIU Cares met us in a corridor by the exit. Earlier, when we met at our reserved seats, Sarah had said we were welcome to leave directly after the presentation in the middle of graduation. I felt dirty taking her up on that and said we would probably stay and come back to our seats. As we were queued up for our turn, I told our “handler” when we were signaled that I I had a change of heart and decided we should leave.
Sarah met us backstage as we were skulking away and gave us praise for our strength. We then thanked her over and over as she had been instrumental in making everything happen. SIU Cares was ready with hotel rooms, seating, and everything else we might need to make this as easy as possible.
As much as this day was a venture into our own emotions… I did get a serious hint of Summer when we were outside after we snuck out. 
We were taking pictures in the spot that Summer and Nate had taken them last year after his graduation. Summer’s photos and diploma were set right next to the concrete saluki dog modeled in the position of a sphinx for a couple of Insta pictures to take the place of words on a social media post.
We then started taking pictures of everyone in varying groupings with the diploma and I barely noticed Professor Justin coming out to join us. The graduation was still going strong inside, but he said they wouldn’t miss him for a few minutes.
Justin was gracious as always and took a picture with us. While we were having side conversations… The subject of a canceled Neil Young Concert came up. Not just any Neil Young concert… Neil with Crazy Horse. The conversation quickly turned towards what a show that would be. It was then that I felt my daughter very distinctly glaring at me. Justin and I getting all amped up over a concert and an artist that she could care less about would have set her off. I could see the eye roll. I could feel the stare. She was very much present and I felt I needed to back off since Justin would be needed inside at some point!
After we snuck out of the graduation early and snapped a few pictures… Nate and I made a tentative plan to meet at a weird “dragon park” that I had heard was interesting in Carbondale.
The weather was perfect… sunny and 78 degrees… It was perfect for a million kids and families to be in the same park we were thinking about visiting. Once we pulled up, I knew this would not work!
Nate recommended that we head down to Giant City State Park. GPS showed it 5 miles away. Easy enough, we hopped in our cars and found a park pavilion right inside the park that was empty. The sign said the pavilion was reserved for the whole day for someone. We looked around… Nobody was there in the parking lot. So, we bum rushed the pavilion… We pitched out some Casey’s pizzas, Costco cookies, and a bottle of champagne. Summer had a few toasts. So did family, friends, and SIU.
Afterward, we were pretty well full of food and had a fair share of laughs with old friends… It became obvious that the cars pulling into the parking lot might have some interest in the pavilion.
We hastily cleaned up and notified the next group of folks using the shelter that we were keeping the seats warm.
They were very nice and there was no confrontation. In this day and age… that’s a victory? Right?
We then all agreed to visit the rock shop in Makanda Illinois that Summer loved. I didn’t realize it was literally 2 minutes around the corner.
Unbeknownst to us, it was just before closing time. All the adjacent store owners had been outside talking to each other when we arrived. One of those business owners, a personable man with pink hair and an indistinguishable southern accent was talking about a black dog that had wandered by. A few of us had seen it at the pavilion as well. The white dusting around the dogs muzzle led us to think this old dog must belong to someone. We all agreed that it was lost, but it was not in the mood to deal with humans. Every time someone got near it… It pulled its tail up between its legs and started trotting away down the middle of the road.
The news of this dog walking around the park and passing through town a few times was the big news of the day. This is the lazy Saturday afternoon life that makes southern Illinois and the Shawnee Forest so appealing. No cares in the world… Short of a lost dog. But a dog that looked like it could take care of itself. So, it’ll probably be OK. 
The mental landslide started a few days ago. Summer was diagnosed as “terminal” the day before Nate’s graduation. Nate’s family heard the news that weekend.
I go back and look at “one year ago” photos a lot. Google Images does this thing to me all the time. A popup on my phone will say “Hey, remember this day?”. I click the link and it’s Summer eating lunch with me in the cafeteria at St. Jude. To this point, before the horrible news, the pics have been bittersweet moments of treatment, road trips to Carbondale, and Mempis’ life. But, now they are going to start building up to Summer’s grand finale (said slightly sarcastically, but also as a bit of showmanship since she left us on my birthday).
I will be able to stomach the grand western vacation reminders… But the hospice is going to crush me.
She was such a trooper. I’m still so pissed.
Mother’s Day 2024 was about as lowkey as you might expect. Angela stayed in bed so long that the cat had grown bored with napping. I watched some news and made coffee while she and Aiden slept in.
Linda came over, we had lunch and then Aiden took off back to Kenosha. He is out of school, mostly, but had a job interview for a possible summer job in Wisconsin.
We then did some yardwork and sat down for an evening of Clarkson’s Farm.
Sitting on the couch… Angela said, “You’ll know how I feel on Father’s Day”. I quipped back, “I am more worried about my birthday, but I am pretty sure they will both suck.”
The next month is assuredly going to suck. I will continue to look at pictures from a year ago… But, as I said before, that hospice week will be hard to view.
Summer never quit; her body did.
As I read your well-written tribute about your beautiful Summer, I thought of Tori Lodge, whose family also received her ISU diploma posthumously about two years ago and the other people I know whose daughters have passed. I cannot imagine the feelings, the trauma, the heart break. And, why wouldn’t you feel “pissed”? You and your family love Summer and would much rather, of course, still have her here in the present. And, how can you not be mad about that! Eric , you know so many care. Lonnie
Healing takes time and grieving never ends. It is always lurking there to ambush you when you least see it coming. And thats ok. It is human nature. It is a neceasary evil. We move on, but never forget. Be well.