(Psssst... it's a repost. You can move along....I won't be offended!! x0x0x)
You remember her, don’t you? She’s the one we hold close to our hearts after the tragic loss of her youngest son.
Karen is fifteen months older than me, and for reasons that will become clear in a moment, was held back in second grade to be in my class.
We traveled in school together a bit like twins. We had a slew of friends, participated in brownies and girl scouts together (except I was the bad-ass one always in trouble); were cheerleaders together and graduated together. I was always a bit jealous of her great beauty and her big boobs. She was chosen to be on the homecoming court our senior year, and I was voted most outgoing. I would have swapped places with her in a New York minute.
There are some moments that I remember clearly from our childhood. Every year our mother made our Halloween costumes. In fourth grade she brought our costumes to school, having to work until the last minute before the big Costume Contest. (Holy crap, I just realized where I get the procrastination gene!!!) Karen’s costume was an incredible Fairy Godmother one, covered in sequins and was finished with an incredible wand. It was unbelievable. Mine? A tiny little polka dotted gypsy skirt, a black body suit, a mask and black fishnets. I’m still pissed…35 years later. That was also the year she beat me at the class Simon Says dance contest (remember, I snuck my mom’s garter belts to school and they fell down during the dance??).
Now, 35 years later, here we are. We’ve each had three children fairly close in age; talk on the phone every other day, we laugh our asses off together; go to tag sales, the goodwill, thrift shops and enjoy a nice piece of warm sour dough bread slathered in hot butter and a slice of brie. We love each other more than words can say.
Oh, and one minor detail I forgot to mention.
She’s deaf.
