LOUISVILLE, Ky. – If I had forgotten that life flies, the sight across the banquet table gently reminds me. A sophisticated young woman sits svelte in black sequins, her hair pinned high with bobby pins and baby’s breath.

It’s my niece, or a strange new version of Chelsey, with gloss on her lips, the correct fork in one hand and a boyfriend by her side. Yes, my Chelsey, of the overalls and year-round Christmas carols sung off-key and flat-out. The proud tomboy who once named a goldfish Otis because it seemed to float up and down instead of all around and thus reminded her of an elevator. The girl who one summer ate all meals wearing pink swim fins to keep from wasting pool time. That Chelsey.

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