Marley Donoho
Poetry Editor
October 23rd, 2025. The start of the day is nothing special. Waking up feels impossible every day, the warmth of the bed calls my name while I get ready for my first class. I’m usually up for at least an hour before I need to get ready, but why would I be productive when my dorm is a warm barrier keeping me from the harsh wind outside? Walking to my first class is boring, the wind hits against me like it’s wanting me to go back. My headphones are either playing a playlist that’s too upbeat for the day or a podcast that genuinely makes me laugh. Walking across the pedestrian bridge feels like I’m climbing up a mountain, with the wind on top of that it makes me want to quit while I’m ahead.
I walk to Faner, my legs start aching as I start to walk faster so that I’m not late. The October sky is not as blue, as the weather has been getting colder as the month went on. I climb the stairs to the second floor, each step making my legs pulse and my heart go even faster. I get to my ASL class and sit, taking off my headphones, and putting my phone in my backpack. I’m cut off from the outside for an hour and fifteen minutes. The first 45 minutes pass by relatively quickly. In ASL, we’re not allowed to talk so that we can be immersed and learn the language easier. The last 30 minutes always feels like it drags, but that day felt different. Despite looking at the time, it felt like the shortest class I had ever been to. The last 15 minutes started to have a weird feel to it. The weight that had landed on my shoulders felt foreign, and I had no idea what the reason was. I don’t remember much of those last 15 minutes of normalcy.
When I’m let out of the classroom, I put my headphones on and start to connect them to my phone, and that’s when I see the notifications I’ve gotten. What could change in an hour and fifteen minutes? I’m barely halfway to my next class as I look at everything. 3 missed calls from Dad, 2 missed calls from Ivy, 1 text from Dad “Call me when you see this.” I’m standing in the middle of Faner, the library to my left and the way back to my dorm on my right, when I hit the call button for my dad. The wind is pushing my hair, the sun is nowhere to be found, and I hear the words, “She passed this morning.”
Past that point I’m not sure what I said to my dad on the phone. I’m pretty sure he asked me if I was okay, not sure if I replied to that. When the phone call ends, I’m still in the middle of Faner. Students are still walking to classes, people are talking and laughing, and I have to stand there knowing that my grandmother just died. I walk to the library. I can’t come in for my 8-1 shift tomorrow and I won’t be there on Sunday for preservation work as I’ll be home all weekend with my family. The numbness had just started to set in, but it’s quickly pushed aside as I tell Julianne what just happened. Her hug is supposed to help—it doesn’t. More hot tears ran down my face as I left the library, and now I’m back in the middle of Faner wondering what to do.
The concrete around me is cold and unforgiving, it’s not beautiful, it’s the ugliest building I’ve ever had to lay my eyes on. It’s also the building that helps me accept what has just happened to me. A flash of red goes in front of my face, and I brace myself in case something hits me. When nothing does, I look over and see two cardinals flying around each other. They look as though there’s nothing as important as them in the world. I finally realize that my grandmother, Wanda, is now at peace and she’s with her Joe again.