Someone from the Class of ’61 died today. No one close by, just someone I sent Christmas cards to and read posts by on Facebook about cats and grandchildren. And suddenly I longed to kiss someone.
I wanted to make love that leaves bruises, jump in a lake at the top of the world so cold I gasp, ride the Roue de Paris, get drunk on Bastille Day and watch fireworks over the Seine and sing La Marseilles with strangers.
Instead I sent a sympathy card to her kids that said sorry for your loss.