Sometimes we don’t see what is staring us in the face. I’m not the photographer of the group—that distinction usually goes to Jenny (and sometimes Peggy) who will remember to memorialize each of our cherished Hunter Mom dinners by asking the waiter to take a picture. So when Kristin asked for photos or memories, I forgot that this one was literally staring me in the face. I keep it on my desk to remind me how Hunter turned my kids’ friends moms into a group of women who I treasure deeply and with whom I share much. We literally raised our kids together, comparing notes, sharing parenting advice, living through the trials and tribulations of college applications and job searches, but also the joys of bar mitzvahs, proms, graduations, weddings and more. Evelyn was missing from this particular dinner—probably because we often went to dinner early, in time for the blue plate special and she couldn’t make it back from work in time. This group originally came together as a group of chess moms. Mary and I had sons that, at one time, were almost indistinguishable across a large chess tournament room (Steven and Spencer both having straight blond hair with bangs). We used to laugh about how we sometimes mistook one for the other as they emerged from a game into a crowd of anxious parents. But truthfully, Steven, that’s how I’m always going to remember you, and that’s how I will always remember Mary—by her wonderful laugh.