I heard via my wonderful alumnae news chronicler that a high school classmate has died. I remember her so vividly. She was the pretty, petite, popular one. The ultimate wannabe of the ungainly girls like me. The girl who kept us in a perpetual state of longing.
She wasn't my first. There was another one in fourth or fifth grade. Several years ago I was at a business event. I was chatting with a woman and when she told me she grew up in Detroit, I knew. I expected if she opened her coat I would see her smartly starched dress. The frilly one that dazzled me then and still appears in my dreams.