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The Porch: The place where the comfort of home melds into the chaos and activity of everyday life; a reprieve from the stresses of the outside world; a greeting to friends and strangers.
The old porch swing creaks on its chains. The planks are loose, but it’ll hold. Every seat is full. The sun is setting, but the day is still warm. A cool spring breeze blows in the air. Some minutes are full of conversation; others are silent. Some leave to get dinner, but they come back. They come back as long as they can, until one day, they leave for the last time.
For four years, this porch has been a part of my college experience. I remember it being my first place I saw on the day that I chose to join my fraternity. On that warm fall day 4 years ago, I remember seeing a group of seniors sitting up there, proud to be at the top of the totem pole, looking humorously at us wide-eyed freshmen as we walked past. During my first year, I spent a few evenings on the porch – but only when I got a coveted invitation from one of the seniors who lived there. On a few occasions, I visited for early morning coffees with a senior who became one of my great friends and mentors in college.
Sophomore year, I moved into the larger house next door and spent plenty of spring and summer evenings sitting on the porch, watching the cars of South 3rd fly by. My junior year, I had the opportunity to move in. I have now lived in this house for two years. I have spent 100s of hours on The Porch. When I was the pledge master for my fraternity, I invited all of my pledges to spend our last meeting on the porch with me. Not a day goes by that I cannot rely on finding a friend on the Porch sometime of the day – after a tough test, a long day of work, or just a nice day for sitting outside and enjoying the fresh air. We’ve watched sports games, movies, played video games, put up Christmas lights, shared meals, drinks, thoughts, and feelings deep into the night on that Porch.
As my senior year comes to an end, I am faced with the harsh reality that my time with many of my closest friends is nearing an all too real end. My closest roommate, who I was randomly paired with in Kurz Hall freshman year and lived with again as a senior, is one of my best friends in the world. I have probably seen him on over a thousand different days, and I may only see him another dozen after June 1. The other McConnell Scholars, my other seniors whom I have had some of my greatest days with, are going to scatter across the world. I don’t know how many times I will see them for the rest of my life, but our memories will lose no luster in my mind. I may make new friends as the years pass, but nothing can take away the moments I have had over the past four years.
The sands of time will continue to blow. I am not sure where I will be five years from now, or ten, or twenty. No matter how many days and years come and go, I will look back, and I will remember. I may not be able to pick out an individual conversation. I may not think of a specific day. But when I look back, I know I’ll think of my porch. I’ll think of the days that I came home and found a friend to talk with. The late nights talking life, religion, philosophy, girls, school, and the future. I wonder if the predictions we made will come true. Even if they don’t, they’ll still be true in the hearts of the young guys that made them.
Bryson, of Louisville, Ky., is a member of the McConnell Scholar Class of 2024 at the University of Louisville. He studies political science and history.