This week one of the world's most beautiful voices fell silent forever.  Tragically, Whitney Houston passed away at the age of 48. People in the social and broadcast media have been weighing in on what I will term "What Whitney meant to me."   Whitney will always be part of the soundtrack of my life.

There's no higher praise I could have for her than to disclose that "Whitney" was the name I had picked out for our son had he been born our daughter. Two of her songs spoke to me so meaningfully that they moved me to tears.  One, The Greatest Love of All, was popular at a painful time in my life and it inspired me by speaking the exact words I needed to hear.

The other song that was so special to me was One Moment in Time.  The lyrics describe the joy of reaching the highest goal one could set for oneself.

I want one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
And the answers are all up to me

The music video on YouTube features a clip montage of Olympic Gold Medalists achieving their dreams.

The achievement of my dream is not Olympic Gold, but it was the most meaningful day outside of my wedding day and the day I became a mother.  It was the day I finished my Master's degree.

One day in early 1991, I had an odd spontaneous thought that seemed to come from nowhere. It was, "I want a Master's degree."  Graduate school was not a "script" I had coming from my family--my older sister and my younger brother are both more intelligent. I was an unremarkable student from rural, working-class Minnesota.  Getting a Bachelor's degree was almost miraculous for me.  A  Master's?  Could I really?  I had a husband, a small child and a job.  How could I? I don't know where the thought came from, but it was so strong. I just knew I would do it. The fall of 1991, I took my first class. 

It was early winter in 1996 when I found out that the University of Minnesota's College of Education had a contest to be commencement speaker at the college's graduation ceremony. I was scheduled to graduate in that ceremony in spring 1996. The task was to write a speech and submit it to a committee in the college who chose the student speaker. Once again, I had a strong inspired inner voice that spoke. "I am going to win that contest!" I thought.  It came to me from nowhere. I applied. And I won.

Whitney Houston's One Moment in Time perfectly captures that moment for me. There I was, with my humorous speech all written out. I was at the podium in the university's Northrup Auditorium (pictured). I was almost numb with the thought that its stage had seen Mikhail Baryshnikov dance and Aretha Franklin sing. Now, for 10 minutes, it was mine. It was packed with over 4000 people.  My husband George and our 8 year old son Eric were allowed to stand in the wings to watch me. As I was about to speak, I glanced over at Eric who gave me the "thumbs up."  I got a chance to tell the world--especially my son--how sacred education is. I also found my writing voice and my favorite genre, humor. There was just nothing like it. A huge auditorium of people laughed at my jokes and memoir. I will never have a moment of personal achievement like that again. 

Whitney described that One Moment in Time like no one else ever will.

Now I work with scholars every day. Many have Ph.D.s and speak to huge audiences all the time. I'm nothing special. But that moment I was "more than I thought I could be." I'd love a Ph.D., but it's not going to happen. The inspired thought isn't coming. I'm not complaining. We all peak at some point, and that was mine. That's OK. I look forward to many wonderful moments to come in my life--my son's graduation from college and holding a grandchild for the first time come to mind. But both of those are up to my son and God, not me. I would just like to leave my reader with some advice from someone who had the opportunity of a lifetime. That One Moment in Time only happened to me once. When that spontaneous thought comes from nowhere, and "all of your dreams are a heartbeat away," listen to it. Carpe diem.

Epilogue

One of the ironies of my commencement speech is that I can't post it because I can't find a copy. It wasn't recorded, and I wrote it on a Macintosh and lost it when our family transferred files to the PC. I'm hoping that someday I find a printed copy somewhere in my belongings.

Flickr photo of Northrop courtesy of Michael Hicks