--- title: "Shedding Petals" description: "For some reason I dreaded this day. I say “for some reason” but I knew the reason. Once I graduated from college, I wouldn’t have any kind of routine to keep…" url: https://www.independentpress.com/article/shedding-petals date: 2026-07-11 categories: ["Fiction"] author: "Jerome Halsey" --- # Shedding Petals ![Shedding Petals](https://images.ctfassets.net/ewtdlsoyixc1/17zhfFrPxNPv4g105pul0X/fc00475582b7ee1ed24a769f5fbca2eb/photo-1520857449136-3a255278db86.avif) For some reason I dreaded this day. I say “for some reason” but I knew the reason. Once I graduated from college, I wouldn’t have any kind of routine to keep me moving every day. My family was just happy that I graduated at all. And hell, I was shocked too—Cs get degrees, but I guess a handful of Ds did too. I didn’t have any cords or sashes or honors of any kind, just graduating was enough of a prize. My friends all had jobs lined up or had the ability to take a gap year while they figured themselves out. But not me. I applied to every job within a twenty-mile radius and none of them responded. Not working wasn’t an option for me either. If I ended up finding a job, it’d probably be at the local CVS until I retire. Destined for a life of grayness and nothing more. The dean shuffled towards the podium and lowered the mic so she could speak into it. “Hello graduates!” She continued with her speech, but I just couldn’t bear to listen to it. It was the standard dull graduation speech talking about how we were going from one chapter to the next in our lives. But all I could do was sit there, knowing that while everyone moved on to their second act, the curtain was closing on me. I did all I could, but I missed the boat._ It’s too late to start_. Just like the bouquet my grandma Judy gave me as congratulations for graduating, my life will soon wilt with nobody to look after it. But Judy was the one exception to that. My grandma Judy is the best person I know without a doubt. She still has her wit, smarts, and shockingly, her joy even as she inches closer and closer to one hundred every year. After the ceremony, Judy was the first person in the crowd I went and talked to. She greeted me warmly, cane by her side, “Oh look at my baby, all grown up. And with a degree too.” I chuckled and retorted back, “I don’t even have the degree yet, they’re gonna mail it in two weeks.” She grinned and poked my sides lovingly, “So you’re telling me we could’ve skipped this and gotten the early bird special at the diner?” I smiled, “Trust me I didn’t wanna be here either Grandma.” She kissed me on the forehead, and for a moment I felt happiness. Though the moment was fleeting. — I lost track of what day of the week it was; I didn’t care to remember anymore. It’s not like I had plans or anything to tend to. I couldn’t even bother to clean my room —I just sat on my bed looking out at the carnage beneath me. Like I was about to get on the last rescue helicopter and looked beneath me at the war-torn plains. I could leave the helicopter like I could leave my bed, but the safety paralyzed me into submission. Even if I were to begin cleaning my room, I had no idea where I would start. The most glaring issue was the pile of clothes strewn across my floor. I didn’t leave the house much, so I’m unsure how the pile even got so big. It wasn’t that difficult in the grand scheme of things to pick up some clothes, but it was bigger than that—it was a physical manifestation of my ineptitude and wasted potential. My graduation gown sat gracefully on top of everything else. I considered burning it after the ceremony to forget that any of this happened. To forget that I was officially a college graduate who had nothing to their name and no plans for next steps. I had spent the last four years studying for a future that I hadn’t bothered shaping. The bouquet of flowers that Judy got for me laid on my desk, a sad image of what they used to be. The white gardenias were a jaundiced yellow with sad drooping petals, and the hydrangeas that were once a vibrant shade of blue were an unrecognizable muddy brown. The vibrancy they once held had dissipated with no hope of returning—an irony that paralleled my own life. As I gazed upon the flowers, the one sentence that I’d repeated to myself like a clutched rosary sat on my tongue. _It’s too late to start._ I slowly got up out of bed and walked over to my desk. I uncapped a half-empty bottle of water that was sitting on my desk and put the flowers into the bottle. If I was going to wallow in my room, I might as well do it with healthy flowers—though they were dead for so long I doubted that there was any potential for new growth. _It’s too late to start_. Next to the sad flowers was all my makeup on top of the textbooks that I needed to return to the library. I hadn’t bothered to put away my makeup because I couldn’t leave the house without a thick layer of it on, so I might as well just leave it out. It added some glow back to my skin and was good at giving others the impression that I knew what I was doing with my life. Even just some blush and concealer made my sepia skin look just a little healthier. I was going to have to spackle a decent amount on me when I returned these books—I couldn’t deal with the library fines on top of the looming college debt I’d be slaving away the rest of my life to repay. _Principles of Biochemistry_;_ Fundamentals of Nuclear Fission_;_ Human Connection for Dummies._ Even though they were just rental textbooks, for some reason I didn't want to let go. For the last time in my life, I’d know all the answers. — I plastered a big smile on my face as I entered the library’s lobby. A part of me was happy that I commuted to campus instead of living in a dorm, but I mostly resented that I had a non-traditional college experience. Maybe if I was part of Greek life or if didn’t have to drive to school every day, I would’ve gotten more out of college. I don’t really know how that would have worked, but it would probably be better than what I was doing. Despite me being a commuter I couldn’t help but come to the library and study. There’s something about it that just makes you want to cram. Cindy, the library receptionist, smiled at me. Usually, the students are the ones who work the reception desk but Cindy had always been an outlier to that. She was a tiny lady who wore all sorts of patterns, and was the only person working there who actually did her job. She wore big chunky jewelry that she definitely got at a flea market. Unlike me, her smile was a genuine one. “Hi! Alex, right?” I smiled faintly, handed over my textbooks and took out my student ID. “Yeah, I’m just returning these textbooks.” “What classes are you taking next semester?” I replied hesitantly, “Oh, I graduated.” “Oh! Congratulations, what are your plans now?” My phone rang in my pocket, a call from an unknown number but with my area code. Thank god, an excuse to not give her an answer. “Excuse me, can I take this for a second.” Cindy quietly nodded at me. The static on the other end stung my ears, “Is this the Johnson residence?” “Yes, who is this?” “I’m Doctor Rodriguez, I’m calling to let you know that Judy Johnson is currently in the hospital. She had a nasty fall on the stairs while she was alone at home. One thing's for sure: she’s very lucky.” My heart dropped. Judy? Like, _my _Judy? “Mr. Rodriguez, please tell me, is she okay?” “Yes, she’s going to recover, but had Mrs. Johnson not been able to get to the hospital so soon after her fall, the damage she suffered could have been fatal.” Fatal. She could have died just like that. And where would I be? Wallowing around waiting for my life to start around me? “I’ll be there as soon as possible?” I placed my phone back into my pocket and looked at Cindy with tears welling into my eyes. “Are there any positions open for alumni?” — The hospital room was great at doing what it was supposed to do: being absolutely sterile. But Judy had her signature glow that she carried around with her that made the hospital just a bit more livable. Judy turned to me as soon as I walked into her hospital room, “They tried to get me but I’m still here.” “Grandma, are you okay?” “I’m fine, I’m fine. You think some stairs are gonna take me out?” “I mean I hope not but who knows?” “Me! I knew! That’s why I just said it.” I chuckled and looked at her leg, encased in a cast. “Are you sure you're okay?” “Yeah. Actually, I’m gonna start learning how to play pickleball. You gotta live life to the fullest, it’s never too late to start trying.” _It’s never too late. _ — The house felt emptier that night with Judy in the hospital. But as I skulked into my room, I noticed something. Something blossoming. The gardenias and hydrangeas had new buds, their old petals discarded on the desk below them. _It’s never too late._