I went to a 50th boarding school reunion this past week in Connecticut and had several Proustian experiences. One of them was seeing the face of an old lady whom I well remembered as the lovely young wife of a faculty member. She is now a lovely old woman. Seeing her gave me a start, adding to the eerie quality of the reunion.
I hadn't see her for 50 years and so of course my brain had not had the opportunity to very slowly view -- and thus mostly ignore -- her aging
--- Robert Whitcomb
