| 14 February 2025 0050 Hours | Romance, Aging, Education, Massachusetts, Memories, Mortality, Music, Youth |
A Bach flute concerto plays on the air. My first love was Seta, a flautist in high school. Our first date was meeting and playing music at her home. I knew her parents well; her mother, An Armenian, soft-spoken woman; Her father, a very short Armenian artist At the Rhode Island School of Design. I remember when he showed me His plastered juxtaposition of egg cartons; Beautifully conjoined to create an optical illusion. Seta and I met at a 50th Reunion for Newton High School. She had aged, but was soft and conversant. Dementia hit and her son took her off to California. I was never able to converse with her again. The magic of early youth, lost at the end In silence and an unfulfillment of words.