Six thousand minutes to four is a steep ratio, but apparently it is worth it. 

 

My daughter graduated from Bryn Mawr college last Saturday, magna cum laude. Her investment was four years, including eight terms and four summer internships, and more cash than we spent on our first mortgage.

 

People look at odds like these, or not, and choose diplomas and dancing. Maybe it looks like a slim return on your investment, but only if you discount the value of getting there. 

 

We don't often circulate footage of ourselves practicing the Lindy hop, or reading about physics. But good stuff is happening then too. Muscles are bulking up. Ideas are taking hold. 

 

John has an aunt and uncle who epitomize for me the sweetness of a shared life. They visit nursing homes to serenade the elderly, come to the recitals of their many grandchildren, hold hands in church. But the journey it took to get to a rhythm of complete trust and mutual kindness was neither brief, nor easy. I am only an in law, but even I am privy to some of the hardships that rocked their path. And the duration is public record. 

 

Holding the cost of prep vs prepared also hides another crucial factor. When you take the floor to boogie, or stride across the stage for your diploma, it looks like a finale. But the end is couched in a beginning. 

 

That bride and groom who learned how to move in sync, laughing as they went, are better equipped for married life. My daughter is significantly more employable than she was in 2009, as the recruiter who offered her a handsome contract can attest. 

 

The aunt and uncle who have been married twice as long as me have left double the worry and irritations behind them, and are already in step with the music across the Threshold. 

 

Photo by Andy Sullivan

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