Alright, I give in. This is my second-to-last article, and it is time to start acknowledging that my time in Wilton is coming to a close. Winter fades into spring, and the classic bittersweet sentiments wash over me while my “Lasts” start to roll in. Lasts are exactly what they sound like: my last time sledding at the beloved Gilly Hill with snow filling my Timberlands and frosting my cheeks, my last morning speed-walking in from the senior lot to escape the cold and beat the bell, and my last necessary but painfully early 5 a.m. phone call alerting me that we have the day off. I take each “Last” with an ounce more appreciation than I normally would, because these somewhat mundane things that make up the ordinary for me now will soon be the very things that help me hold on to the memories of Wilton. With a tinge of sadness, I am prepared to say “see you later” to my Wilton winters.

With that being said, I am not prepared to say goodbye to my classmates. Some of my peers could not be more excited to snag their diploma, flash a peace sign, and drive as far away from our little town as possible. I get that; it has been 13 years, we have all seen quite a lot of each other, and, unsurprisingly, not everyone likes one another. But, we do know each other. Walking through the halls, I get an indescribable feeling of safety from being surrounded by people I have known for 13 years. Each senior that walks past my locker bank in the morning, every high five I give or receive on the third floor, every kid I sit across from in the jungle, people I do not know, people I used to know, my friends, my best friends. We have all experienced the craziness that is growing up in Wilton, and in a few months, a seemingly random kid from my freshman math class will effectively vanish into thin air. It leaves me feeling incomplete, like there are hundreds of students who I have spent years with but barely know, and now it seems too late. After PGP, we will all drive to the beach, watch the sunrise, and say goodbye. I know, I am getting ahead of myself here. But with APs approaching, why not be sappy? Why race to get out of here and burn bridges when I could embrace the nostalgic feelings and lead with kindness? Internship is weeks away, so before I lose my chance, I want to address and thank the class of 2018.

To the people I do not know, hi! My name is Lydia. A couple fast facts for you: I like sitcoms, Birkenstocks, coffee, and denim jackets. Sorry we never got to know each other very well, seems like a missed opportunity to me. Even though it appears we have made it through 13 years without interacting in a town that sometimes feels like it could fit on the head of a pin, the point is that we made it. I am sure you are just as psyched as I am to see what else the world has to offer, but I sincerely hope your time here has been mediocre at worst and absolutely incredible at best. Catch you at our five-year reunion?

To the people I used to know, long time, no see. You are a lot taller than you were in fourth grade. I, however, am not. Miller-Driscoll, Cider Mill, and Middlebrook sometimes feel like a hazy dream to me, but I will never forget the friends I had throughout those years. You were my friend in a time where college stress was unknown and our biggest problem was being the shark in an intense match of Sharks and Minnows. You gave me some iconic childhood memories and as we went through the schools you provided a feeling of comfort for me as a friendly face in a class or a smile in the hall. Thank you, good luck next year.

To my friends, hey. Thank you for sticking around through all of my annoying singing, lame attempts at humor, and random spurts of energy that are typically expressed in the form of awkward dancing that no one wants to see. Seeing you guys every day makes every moment of stress and intensity that accompanies high school worth my while. Because of my incredibly funny, fascinating, and creative friends, every lunch line encounter, theater or chorus rehearsal, deli trip, car ride, text conversation, and club meeting was an opportunity to surround myself with the best people I know, and I am so lucky to be able to call you my friend.

Finally, my nine best friends. I do not really know if I can adequately explain how important you girls are to me, but I do know that June 23rd is not the end for us. You each have so much strength, compassion, and character, and I would not be half the person I am today without your friendship. In this crazy world with billions of people, I got lucky enough to happen to meet all of you, so thank you for what you have given me.

Class of 2018, I thank you for everything. See you around.


Lydia Hoffman is a senior at Wilton High School. She shares this column with five classmates.