Unexpected

One of the unexpected challenges I found in writing a dissertation was the isolation of the process.  I am a person who thrives on collaboration, the sharing of ideas, and feeling the camaraderie of being with people.  By design, doctoral training becomes increasingly isolated as you delve further into your own area of study.  By and by, you have forged into a territory that is relatively uncharted and you are largely alone both professionally (not many others are studying exactly what you study - you are creating a unique niche for yourself...) and physically (people leave you alone because you're dissertating...).  For me, this was compounded by the fact that most of my closest doctoral friends graduated ahead of me and moved on.  I was the last of a particularly unique cohort of students to finish.  A few weeks ago, I selfishly worried about the fact that, God-willing I finished this degree, I would have no one to celebrate with.

I should never have worried about a thing.  I have been stunned by the outpouring of love and support I have received from so many.  This support has come from both those I was aware of and those I had no idea were following my progression in my little corner of the world.  It has truly been incredible.

A few days before I defended, my younger brother sent me a text in which he hypothetically asked, were I to receive a delivery of some sort, when would be the best day for such a hypothetical delivery to arrive.  I responded and went along on my merry way.

Sure enough, the day I had designated, a guest buzzed at my apartment asking if there was a Dr. in the house.  Indeed there was. :-)  I met the florist deliveryman halfway down the stairs and thanked him for the flowers.

As I carried it into my apartment, I noted it was a rather beautiful bouquet.

And then a small little detail came into focus.

And my jaw dropped.

I was stunned to see this ridiculous little button.  Let me back up about, oh, eleven or twelve years.

Many moons ago, I was gifted this button for some occasion long forgotten.  Perhaps it came from a visiting teacher?  A coworker?  I have no recollection of where this button actually hailed from, but I do remember I passed it along to my brother telling him that I was giving it to him because he was, after all, a very special person.

He politely refused and indicated that I needed the button because I was just as special, nay more special than him, and should probably declare it so to the world by wearing it proudly on my person at all times.

I tossed it back his way.  He frisbee'd (yes, I made that a word) it to me.  I threw it at him and ran out of the room, yelling all the way, "But you're just SO special!  You deserve it!!"

The next morning the button was unexpectedly pinned to my backpack.

I dropped it in his coat pocket on the way out the door.

He left it on my pillow.

And thus began the passing back and forth of the button.  I remember putting it in his lunch bag.  He put it above the visor in my car and it plopped into my lap when I flipped it down.  The frequency with which I've seen the button ebbs and flows.  At one point, I realized I hadn't seen the button for several weeks.  I assumed he still hadn't discovered it tucked into one of his books on his bookshelf.  Imagine my surprise when I flipped my couch cushion over one day to see it happily pinned to the underside of the cushion.  Who knows how long it had been there?!

Now, the last time I was physically at my brother's house was about 2 1/2 years ago.  I saw the button sitting on the back of his kitchen counter in a cup full of knickknacks.  I just assumed that after 10 years of passing it back and forth, perhaps he'd had enough and I didn't say anything.

But, no. He was just biding his time until he pulled out the big guns and mailed it to Nebraska so a florist could shock me with a button I hadn't seen for more than 2 years with a note that said, "Today no one is more special than you."

Well played, Patrick.  Well played.

Never forget, Patrick, that it is actually you who are so special you need a faded and weathered purple button to remind you.  When you least expect it...

p.s. It has made me wonder, though, do other people have a random object they keep passing back and forth???