Kim Tracy Prince '93 | July 14, 2014 | Notre Dame Magazine
It is August, and the Sunday paper arrives with a thwack, sailing from the dark van window to the middle of my driveway. Today it is filled with back-to-school sale flyers, and my brain automatically creates a budget for clothes shopping. An image pops into my head unbidden: me at 14, with feathered hair and irrepressible pride, in my new purple corduroys with matching purple plaid blouse, thin pipes of gold thread shimmering through it like a blessing.
I haven’t been to school in 20 years, but the ebb and flow of the academic calendar became body memory long ago. That same knowledge allows me to drive through the hometown I visit only once a year, without knowing the directions, because my body remembers the turns and hills.