I am struggling tonite to appropriately and respectfully express my memories of a lifelong friend who recently passed. Few if any of you knew her…tho her son has become a friend here on FB.
She and I went to high school together. She was a few months older than I, chronologically but eons beyond my fragile immaturity. She was then both confident and kind. She surely sensed my desire and attraction for her; my hormones at that time an absolute mystery to me. We never dated, we seldom even spoke. Yet she always had a warm and accepting smile for me in the hallways…and for me that was more than enough.
She was a queen, a presence, a daily reminder that there were girls in the world with mysteries far beyond my capacity to understand, let alone woo and win. I was painfully shy at that time around girls, especially girls that made me feel…desire.
I will always remember her dressed in a starched white blouse and tartan skirt. The skirt had a front panel that rose above the waist and suspenders, much like overalls. But on a blossoming young women, those suspenders existed to frame their breasts. The plaid lower skirt was taut as it encircled their hips, creating a horizontal pattern of creases across the belly, accentuating their fullness and voluptuousness and mystery.
Decades later we reconnected at a 40th high school reunion in Washington DC and later here on FB. By then, I was a survivor of war and someone classmates had recognized on their TV and movie screens. I still had my hair, my body still fit…and it was both flattering and amusing to discover that many of those high school co-eds now found me attractive, a catch. I never embarrassed her with memories of my teenage crush…but she knew. And I’m grateful that we were able to share that connection in our later days, me finally beyond my adolescent confusion and yearning.
Happy Trails, Cookie.cupcookie

tucker cu