Little Martha

The Allman Brothers Band did not have many “mellow” songs during their long and illustrious career. They were a hard-driving southern rock, blues and soulful group, known for long melodious live shows – numerous of which I have attended. One song that does not fit their “normal” category is a thoughtful guitar instrumental called “Little Martha,’’ the last song on their iconic “Eat a Peach” album. Give it a listen here; it has been called the “most perfect guitar song ever written,” and after you listen to it you may find that’s difficult to argue. But hey. This post isn’t about music history. It’s about life at the end of another academic year, which of course is more than just “another academic year.”

Marist College held its double-barreled commencement exercises on Saturday and Sunday of last weekend; both days had epically terrible weather – for late May, but really for any time of year. Is there any worse weather than cold, driving rain? I would posit to say no. However, I don’t think our graduates and their families minded as much as maybe they would have normally. For the past 15 months, if you gave them the choice of “in-person graduation, in miserable weather” or “no graduation at all” (see Class of 2020), methinks they’d take option #1, 100 times out of 100.

After going through this cycle 30 times -- 30 years of hugs and goodbyes and see you at weddings and road races and stay in touch, will ya? moments -- it doesn’t get easier or less poignant. The hugs. The tears. The goodbyes. This year, though, was different. Of course, it was different. It seems like we’ve had one long drawn-out goodbye. So much loss, so many goodbyes, even before commencement. Seasons lost. Practices lost. Moments lost. And so, this Class of 2021 will be remembered for that, more than anything. We weren’t permitted to attend commencement; just as well, with the weather! We were, however, fortunate to have a post-graduation dinner on Sunday night with Draney and Graham, two members of the Class of 2021. Along with their awesome parents, we had a wonderful meal and drinks at Terrapin restaurant in Rhinebeck. As it drew time to leave, way past my normal bedtime, there was talk of cake and champagne at their off-campus house. Pffft. No thanks, I’ll pass. Drop me off at home, thanks for everything, there’s a book and a pillow anxiously awaiting my arrival, thank you very much.

As I got up from the table and we posed for pictures and hugged and cried a little into the drizzly northern Dutchess County evening, the background music at the restaurant was an oddly comforting guitar instrumental. I recognized it instantly. “Little Martha.” Great song. Great guys. Great families. I’ll think of them every time I hear that song now. I’ll think of the rest of the Class of 2021 often, probably when we return to meets in the fall and winter and spring, wondering what good times – literally and figuratively – they could have gotten but that were missed. “I’ll miss you” is one of the clichés of commencement weekend. But again, thinking back to the Class of 2020 and now to the Class of 2021, the word “miss” will always have multiple meanings.