Molly was perfect.
She was 2 years older than me… an Upperclassman. We were both in drama together. She was pretty, tall, perfect skin… and always wore this thin elegant gold cross around her neck. It would dangle from under her turtlenecks. She was preppy and perfect.
I was awkward. Dark hair… big lips… curvy… didn’t really fit in anywhere.
She was graceful… and would fling her long ballerina like arms very dramatically.
I wore a minimizer bra… and ate lunch in the art barn.
We went to Watkinson…a very small private school in West Hartford, CT.
My class was the largest graduating class… 52 students! I think 26 boys and 26 girls. We all knew each other… each other’s family’s … each other’s lives.
That’s why we all knew the Upperclassmen… we looked up to them… waiting our turn to be the Seniors!
By the time I graduated I had found my own friends… and my own circle. But I never sat at the “cool kids” table.
I could have… I was friends with most of them… but I sat at a big table in the middle of the dining hall. Kinda friends with everyone.
I came to find out yesterday… at Molly’s funeral… that we were actually a lot alike.
We both lost our Dads. We both have 2 kids. We both were divorced… and then found true love.
And… like she… will die well before our time.
At her Watkinson memorial service yesterday… I felt so overwhelmingly … surprisingly… warm and at home. I saw and spoke to so many people from my Watkinson past. People I hadn’t seen in 25 years… but that I “truly” knew. Friends coming together to mourn one of our own.
On the ride home… I told Greg that I hope Watkinson will do a service for me one day. Sorry… a bit morbid… but when you’re told you only have 3-5 years to live… you do a little pre-planning.
I want everyone to stand in the old smoking area… where everyone would congregate in the mornings of the 80’s… and play (cliché I know)… Heart’s most recent version of ‘Stairway to Heaven’! Drink a rich Hot Chocolate… bathed in fresh whipped cream… and know that I became a lot of who I am today… because of all those days at Watkinson!
Rest In Peace Molly.
Love,
Tra