Dear Amanda, Alaina, Andrea and Tessa,

I love Madi, too, but this message is for the Class of ’15. I wish we could squeeze Leila in here, too, but she and I already had a chat sort of like this one.

I need to have it with you four, too, because, part of being Irish is going through life certain that a meteor will land on you and squash you flatter than a bug at any minute, so I’d better get this said.

You are now seniors. You are reminded to see me for a good letter of recommendation because I write a dilly.

I know I’ve stuff like this before, but I am 62, dammit, and we repeat ourselves, and it doesn’t matter, anyway: good things bear repeating, because so often in life all we hear is what we did wrong.

I have been teaching for thirty years and have taught some extraordinary young women, but I have never encountered a group—a combination of talent, intelligence, grace and determination—like you four and Leila.

I took great joy in being your teacher, and when Andrea invited me to the Progressive Dinner last year, it was one of the best parts of the entire school year (not to mention getting to hang, even if it was in a stupid school van, whose seat belts I never did quite figure out, with such beautiful young women.)

I think I’ve mentioned that I really, really wanted a little girl, but the Lord opted for boys, and if one of ‘em’s gonna be a priest, that shoots a rather large hole in any potential for granddaughters.

But that’s okay, because I think so highly of you five, and have so much affection for you—my heart gets all squishy—that you are kind of like the daughters I would have wanted to have: you are young women of great character, and it is my fond hope that you and your (female) peers will take over this country and, for once, run it right.

This has been your Official Senior Year Pep Talk, and it comes from someone who loves you all very much.

That is all. Class dismissed.

 JG