three hundred and thirty five
When I was eight I lost a good friend in the most horrible way possible. She was seven. Today marks the day, 26 years later.
She crosses my mind still, sometimes frequently, sometimes only sporadically.
Many times this past year I have been reminded of her- things people say, an old picture, certain little actions- I have been surprised at the number of things that have brought her to mind. And specifically this year.
A moment of reflection and I saw the connection. Catherine is seven.
She is seven and I am keenly aware of the fragility of life.
Understanding your pain, Rebecca. When I was a third grader (1962-63), a classmate died in a freak accident, and a second classmate lost an arm to cancer. We moved away from NY back to Ohio three years later, and I lost contact with nearly everyone there years ago, but those two children are with me still. Now, working in education, i wonder how our teacher -one of the best I ever had – survived that year.