Just a month before our 50th reunion, word came that another of our classmates has died. She and I were not close friends in college, although we’ve seen each other at reunions over the years. She’s reached out to me a few times, at moments when she needed help and thought I could be the one to provide it. I did what I could. When she and I talked most recently, she told me how much she looked forward to the reunion, to returning to campus, perhaps to revisiting a time when her life seemed more promising than it may have actually turned out.
I think there probably won’t be anyone at the gathering who wanted to come more than this woman. I wish life had given her that; one more month would have done it.
One year she came to reunion wearing an exotic hat; no one else had any sort of hat at all, and she stood out. I’m miss seeing how she might have showed up this time.