They depart one by one, leaving their exam sheets at their seat. The room empties, leaving paper ghosts and air that lingers with the heavy sighs of searching for recall — “brain exhaust”, as my graduate neurology professor named it. The exams are heavier as I pick them up; perhaps it’s the graphite scratched into the scantrons or the penciled memory markers in the margins.

Students exit with bids of well wishes, gratitude, relief, joy. Brows furrowed with contemplation just moments before now rise above grins that spread with an expression of relief.

I collate the exams, stacking them haphazardly for the journey back to my office. I hesitate at the lectern; my hand reaches to rest there once more. I cannot help but pray. Perhaps that is what I’ve done here all semester long — pray. What a privilege it is to stand here, to be endowed with the trust to lead a foray into learning; to invoke curiosity and guide discussion; to share and receive.

I turn off the lights, pausing to watch the fluorescent bulbs flicker, dim, and die. A sense of completion: bitter and sweet, desired and dreaded. These studeys* have left bits of themselves in this room; graphite and sighs, yes, but also laughter and conversation, triumph and despair. I gather these little bits — scraps that tell stories beyond their size — scooping them up and holding them close to my chest. It aches a little, but only a “good hurt”.

I ponder: isn’t this heartache just evidence of swapping scraps, exchanging bits of self? Is my heart any smaller for giving up its pieces for 16 weeks in this college amphitheater? No. Rather, it becomes a kaleidoscope tapestry of tales from future dentists, nurses, PAs, psychologists; from equestrians, taekwondo athletes, bug collectors, and music enthusiasts. What a rich quilt I have the privilege of piecing together!

Perhaps this was an examination of more than the heart as a cardiovascular pump (systole was the correct answer, by the way); it was an examination of the heart of things. 

I am abundantly blessed and grateful to be here.

*a term of endearment, most days.