50 Stories for 50 Years — Post 34 My roommate and I didn’t become close to our male companymates at the Academy. That sounds strange to say. We lived together, trained together, survived Plebe Summer together. But the pressure of being among the first women midshipmen didn’t leave much room for the kind of friendship that deepens slowly. You were managing too much to be fully present to each other. The guys themselves were finding…
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Recently, I attended my husband’s 50th high school reunion. Reunions come packaged with all sorts of anticipation mixed with anxiety. It wasn’t my reunion, so I was looking forward as an observer, seeing a slice of Gary’s life I hadn’t seen yet. At the Friday night mixer, a classmate in recognition rushed up to Gary. Within minutes, the stories poured out of her life. Her husband died two years earlier, a severe illness still plagued…
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