Linda Sutton Behrend

Ode to Linda

Linda Tice, our childhood and adult friend.  She wore the queen’s sash of Miss Ebullient.  Not many can wear that iridescent emblem of a bubbly, shimmering personality, but for Linda, it was a perfect fit.

Throughout grades 1 to 12, she bounced down the halls.  I don’t think anyone was envious of her, just enjoyed her joy of life, her ebullience.

At our 50^th [gulp!] reunion, each of us gets a bite in the butt of mortality.  We don’t recognize each other without the name tag yearbook photo, but if we look into each other’s eyes long enough, we see through the years.  My eyes were usually shaded in shyness for some reason.  We should have looked—and held—each other’s eyes before time stops for us.  And it will.  Mortality has a way of sucking.

As I think of Linda, we were close in alphabetical order, me Linda Sutton, her Linda Tice.  Of all the great things she did, our Miss Ebullience.  I remember her in Mrs. Edwards’ fourth grade class.  That class held many new things: Bertie’s new blue glasses, Janet’s not standing for the Pledge of Allegiance because of her faith, and our new wonderful fountain pens.  We felt really big, moving up from pencils to pens.  Using the fountain pen presented many obstacles that we overcame easily due to our excitement to get to use them.  Ink on our fingers was a badge of honor: we were growing up.  My most distinctive ink memory is Linda’s lips.  As she concentrated on her work, she would put the pen’s nib between her lips, leaving ink stains. 

What wonderful memories.  Now that time has slipped away from Linda faster than it should, our memories become even more indelible.  Remembrance is life.  We all must hold on tightly with both hands to all memories we hold dear.  We love you, Linda.