Family members sat in organized white chairs across the lawn in front of Lewis Hall. Most had a wind breaker wrapped around their shoulders or around their exposed legs due to the harsh cold breeze. Despite the undesirable conditions to be sitting in the cold, they were happy to see their loved one about to walk away from the stage with a degree in hand.

The tops of mortarboard hats displayed the messages of what the person would be doing in their next step in life or a sarcastic comment about their college experience. Every soon to be alum looked forward towards the stage with sense of accomplishment detailed on their face.

Despite how much I loved seeing the 2019 graduates and the effort they put towards decorating their caps, I always took an appreciation towards seeing the doctoral robes. Years of schooling that professors put in to end up with an outfit straight out of a Harry Potter movie.

Every doctoral robe had something special about it. Colors have particular meaning. Hats have a particular meaning. Stripes having a particular meaning.

Pretty weird sign of being really smart and probably deep in student loan debt.

I made eye contact with my art professor, John Kolbo, before both of us breaking into broad smiles. He was seated near edge, where I was standing on the other side with camera in hand. His robe wasn’t one that signified him with a doctoral degree but still one that said he was a professor.

At that point in time, John Kolbo was my art professor and advisor for two years. He was a pretty big reason in why I committed to coming to Morningside College. His personality was always goofy with finding ways to sneak a pun or bring up his family’s yearly hog roast.

We would always joke with each other, bounce ideas off of each other, and teach each other keyboard shortcuts for Adobe programs. He was instrumental in making me pursue the crazy design ideas I had. He truly believed in me, which motivated me to improve my skills and make him proud.

Kolbo would always come into the graphic design lab with some musical tune coming out of him. His long grey hair on the top of his head bobbing slightly when he walked.

Kobo was also characterized by the iconic look that he rocked practically every single day. Puffy black vest. Sweater over a button up. Shiny black boots. Blue Jeans.

The man knew how to make you smile.

That cold graduation day was the last time I saw Kolbo looking healthy. Full of joy without a care in the world when he was awarded Faculty Member of the Year Award from the college. A moment that wasn’t revealing with the health problems he was dealing with.

Kolbo was diagnosed with high grade brain tumor after being treated for a subdural hemotoma back in 2014. He had received surgery and had the tumor removed. Since then, he faced rounds of chemotherapy and trips to Rochester to track the state of the tumor.

But since then, the tumor slowly made itself more apparent that it had returned.

He never talked about it in class how his health was, but a person could see that he was not feeling his best at times. I would ask him about how he was feeling. He would play it off. The dark bags under his eyes and less weight in his face said otherwise.

This same scene played out during early October of 2019, only a few months after graduation. Kolbo looked like he had not slept in a week with a dulled energy that he had before. His smile still remained bright in the middle of the matboards and stacks of paper that piled around his desk. 

I talked to him about how his semester so far and checked in on what designs he was working on. We laughed about going to Meet the Pros, a graphic design conference in February, and the current plans for the hog roast that year. A little voice in my head told me to savor this moment for some unknown reason.

Kolbo went on sick leave soon after this small drop in to his office. There was a ripple of uncertainty as adjuncts were placed in the classes he was teaching. Graphic design students were hopeful that he would return back in the spring semester.

The New Year passed, and he did not return back to school. When the pandemic hit, it became more certain that he would not return due to how at risk he was. 

Spring semester was filled with small updates on how he was doing. 

Kolbo was not doing great. He got better and was back on his motorcycle, cruising the town. He fell back into not doing so great.

Nothing really clear.

Until this past week.

On Friday, I received the first concrete news about John Kolbo in a long time. He had passed away peacefully, surrounded by his family, after a six-year battle with cancer.

Initially, I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t comprehend it. A world without a mentor that meant a lot to me.

It wouldn’t hit me until 2 AM at a friend’s apartment with a drink in my hand. My fellow graphic design friend asked me what was wrong. I spilled what I knew to her. We both kind of slumped in our chairs with steady streams of tears running down our faces.

I have felt numb since learning the news. Randomly being hit with grief where I cry has become a normal occurrence, especially when I am alone with my thoughts. My energy has been drained as well some heightened depression and end of the semester anxiety clashing.

I have noticed that I have been seeing objects that automatically remind me of Kolbo. They makes me tear up every time. He deserved a lot longer time on Earth than what was given.

It will take time before the pain wears off. For now, I will just need a lot of tissues with me.

I try to think of the good memories of Kolbo and his spirit. I smile and tear up at the same time. 

The year of 2020 feels like it is a year of grieving and losing. It has been the Grim Reaper’s year to raise hell. It feels like he has almost taken a long-term residence to take the good ones in life away.

Death has felt like it has been the biggest theme of this year. COVID-19 related deaths. Cancer or illness related deaths. Freak accident deaths.

We see it constantly everywhere we look at a whole new scale. Numerous people passing away sooner than expected.

Just as much as death has been a dominant theme, grief has also followed along. Loved ones, friends, and those who were close to those who passed away have been hurting. Empty spaces at the dinner table that won’t be filled again.

This year has made it hard to comfort each other during our times of grief. We can’t go hug each other or stop at other’s houses due to the fear we might bring an early death to others. 

All we can do is check in with those who are grieving and just talk from a distance. 

I only hope that next year is better, with death not being as big of a theme for the year. I don’t want to read as many obituaries as I did this year.

Most importantly, I want good people to hug their family members for years to come and not be taken away sooner than expected.