Hands on our hips

   Fifty years ago, I was finishing High School, planning to go to college.I remembered when I went to college in 1965.  Why in the world I chose to go to Bryan College in Dayton, Tennessee, I will never know.  Well actually I do know, it was part of God's plan for me, but from a logical standpoint that was not such a great move.  It was 1,000 miles away from home, an out of state college and we didn't know the first thing about student loans.
   But off to Tennessee I went - leaving my parents with three children still at home and my dad in a difficult time in the workplace.  I've felt guilty about that for many years.  HOWEVER...
   I knew I wanted to be a minister's wife.  As I have said many times, I might have becom minister myself had I lived in a different economy. It was the mid sixties, girls just didn't do that,
   So it wasn't that hard to drop out of college in the middle of my sophomore year and get married.My North Carolina born preacher boy had his third degree and we had three children before we divorced in 1983.
   And I had a few college courses behind me.
   Those children and I moved to Jacksonville and I took my first class at UNF in 1983.  Would I ever graduate?  I hoped so.  The circumstances of life took over.  College became the least of my worries.  I wondered if that silly comment about UNF - u never finish - would be my mantra.
   Until. . .
   Both of my daughters were in college.  Becca was at the University of Florida and Renee was at Stetson.  I was envious and must have been being verbal about it.
   Renee put her hands on her hips and made this statement: "I think you resent it that Becca and I are getting an education and you never completed yours".
   I put my hands on my hips and responded:  "I think you are right".
  And so it was that 13 years ago, I donned a cap and gown and walked into the UNF arena to the strains of Pomp and Circumstances.
   I looked up and saw a young woman waving her hands in the air.
   It was Renee and we knew.
   It was all about those hands on our hips.