I went into the girls washroom and there she was. Super popular. Super skinny. Knock kneed in a way that made me jealous.
We hate you. And you are fat.
She scared me. I was only 8. And for the record, according to my grandmother, I had just the right amount to squeeze.
Later that year my best friend was inviting both of us to her birthday party. She told her if she was going to come she had to be nice to me.
It was a compelling start to a long friendship
Most days I am charmed to death and encouraged by the young. But far too often I worry about what is going to become of too many of the ‘lucky’.
Just last week I was telling someone that this month (today actually) marks 3 years since you died.
And then, just like, implausibly, some people take a long time to remember their age, I realized that I was off by a whole year.
It is two years. But you have to hush your grief in this world after 6 months. Or 6 weeks. No one wants to hear. You are supposed to move on.