Yes, it all felt wonderful the next morning, and I promised myself I would never get so “nervous” again. We’ll see, of course, but there was something about speaking on hallowed ground about the Dean who had saved me from my mother and the President who had changed my future despite my mother that was frightening, as though my mother was, herself, in the room. Silliness, I know. But I plan not to read those sections in California and Seattle.
Now it’s raining in New York and I have been stumped by the NYTimes Crossword, and am simply waiting for evening when Helene and I will share what we have and what we “need.” And try to finish the puzzle.