A C H A P E L TA L K
by Joseph Calvin “Cal” Wilson ’19 September 25, 2018
Sailing on Memories photo credit
Cal Wilson, center, with friends after his chapel talk
G
roton is a school of traditions. I like that. It is one of the main reasons I decided to come here. The chapel talk tradition is something you learn about from very early on, through visits or other sources. Then, when you arrive, you begin the cycle. You don’t really know all the people, but you hear from your prefects, maybe the headmaster and some people you vaguely recognize. Then, as you get older, it is people you know through sports and classes and other activities. Finally, you hear from people you actually know. And, all the while, you think about what you might say. It is a bit daunting, but you know you are going to do it, and it is always in the back of your mind. Then, all of a sudden, the sign-up sheet goes out and—if you were me this summer—you
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Groton School Quarterly
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Winter 2019
don’t see it for a few days, and the only slots left are in September, which is the only time you don’t want to be doing a chapel talk. I had a few ideas about what I was going to say. And then, last summer happened. It started, as some of you might know, with a trip to Thailand. Great Groton friends, a new and amazing culture, some good deeds teaching at the Bangkok School for the Blind, and a bunch of other things that I don’t have the time to talk about here. A story for another day, I guess. Then I came home and my world changed forever. I have always had a charmed life. Everything has been good and, as you will hear, I got to do something that people only dream about. But, suddenly, very tragically, my mom died. It was the first great crisis of my life. My grandmother had died a few months earlier. That, however, made some sense. She was ninety, had all of her faculties, and had been able to live right up to the end unassisted in her own home. The only thing she couldn’t do was figure out modern technology in almost any form … and maybe that was a sort of blessing. But my mom was forty-eight. She had sailed around the world, was leading us in section-hiking the Appalachian Trail, and was training for her eighth or ninthmarathon. She was animated, loved life, and was at the heart of everything that has happened to me during my seventeen years. My dad, brother, and I were devastated. We still are. So now I have a lot to think about beyond college applications and the world after Groton. But, as I thought about this talk, I came to realize that what I was going to talk about today hasn’t really changed much. The gifts I have been given are with me. The many things I learned from my mom live on, and her example to me will not fade.