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Laurie Gough's avatar

This makes me nostalgic for San Miguel! That tree in the road! Our rooftop bar! Us walking home at night and me leading the way because of your funny sense of direction. Our friends, our "dad", our long talks, laughing for hours into the night. All those weirdos. All those talkers. All those people we really do love after all.

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Judith Owens-Manley's avatar

Bill was the facility director when I worked in a children's residential treatment center, and we were both social workers. He was handsome and blonde and wore a leather bomber jacket to work every day. The women who worked there were all in lust with him. I run into him once every few years; the last time, he and his wife were just starting out on a run, setting his watch for the time, when my friend and I were walking in the same neighborhood and happened upon them. He stopped, and we caught up. We shared about four years in time working to have children's lives be bearable, better than they were, transformed even--a lofty goal. One time, something unbearable had happened to a child on my watch. When he saw me that day, he came up and just gave me a long hug. Some things just can't be said in words. That is structural language, something else I learned about somewhere else . . . our first language as babies.

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