I had a mentor once. Actually, she was more than a mentor. She was a friend, just a few years older than me, with a lot of life experience.
Her name was Jan. She sang in an a capella band, with radical feminist roots, which I didn’t even understand. She taught me about money, making a living wage, listening to myself, and the scourge of waitresses. She was smart, funny, fiercely protective and used to make me laugh.
Most of all, she was kind. Thank you, Jan. I needed you and you were there.
I’d like to tell her that, but I don’t know where to find her. She worked with me in a sports bar in Hillsboro Village, back in the day. She has a pretty common name, so finding her in the white pages and on facebook seems to elude me.