I have been going through my mom's things, cleaning things out because my dad can't and won't try. While going through some of the stuff that miraculously survived my half sister and her two -- ahem! -- kids, I have found a treasure trove of high school memorabilia from my mom's times at RHS from 1962-1965. The class prophesy, which has my mom 10 years later married to Alfred E. Newman and working like MAD on their March edition. You know, the good stuff. Like her pins, the GAA letter and certificate, and reading all the stuff people wrote in her yearbook.
Is this the point where I mention that only ONE of her classmates finally commented on her death on "Memories of Growing up in Richmond Michigan" facebook page? And only after I posted through my mom's account in the thread discussing the members of 1965 who had died.
Yup. Good Old Richmond, Michigan. You can spend your whole life there, and generations of your family as well, and, "Who are you?"
As Emily Dickenson put it so eloquently, in what I call "The RHS poem":
I'm Nobody, who are you?
Are you -- Nobody -- too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
Here's a picture of nobody. My mom is in the last row, second from far right
