The Postscript | Blooming Late By Carrie Classon I REALIZED THAT I MIGHT be a late bloomer—a little late, naturally. I love hearing about proteges: the 5-year-old drummer or the 16-year-old activist. I love hearing about the 9-year-old who sings like an old soul, and reading about the 14-year-old who just completed a master’s degree. I marvel at all these amazing accomplishments. I am…