I Was Not Looking for My First Love – but When a Student Chose Me for a Holiday Interview Project, I Learned He Had Been Searching for Me for 40 Years
I was not searching for my first love. At 62, I believed that chapter had been closed, archived quietly among other youthful certainties that time dismantles without asking permission. December usually arrived gently for me—papers to grade, corridors to monitor, Shakespeare quotations echoing through classrooms warmed by overworked radiators. I liked the predictability. I trusted…