Kit
It's 7 in the morning and I am looking out at the very calm ocean and remembering when my childhood friend Kit was here with her husband Tom a couple of summers ago. She had Parkinson's for twenty five years. The following Fall, Tom died. Kit died a few weeks ago. Kit and I were born a day apart. Both in New York City. We sent each other felicitations every August. We first met when we were ten and lived a block apart. My first memory of her was walking down her street to our bus stop. We laughed a lot. When Kit shared her laugh with you it was something to savor. Hers and hers alone. Much like her smile. Even better. True that. She was always up for a funny exchange, a shared secret, a good time. I noticed and enjoyed her lovely shine early on. During our deep, sixty five year long friendship, she made me feel special because she was. During college, she visited me in Ohio. I felt assured our connection was to continue after our early days. After our tenth year reunio...