Years ago my sister Therese and I went to a funeral service with both my parents. We all had connections with the deceased or some part of his family. The guy was my sister Therese’s former supervisor; his Dad had worked with ours for years. I worked with the deceased Sister at a parking lot. He was a lovely man. In fact the whole family was terrific. “Stanley”, that’s a family name out of Cleveland. Great people with a terrific sense of humor. Upon leaving the funeral home my Mother became quiet and somewhat teary (totally unlike her). At this point Therese and I were sitting in the backseat of my Father’s car, and in doing so , had reverted to “the Kids”. Mom looked at Dad and said, “You know Bill, I was very proud of those girls in there (Therese & I). You could take them anywhere, you needn’t put bags over their heads! Wonderful, at Thirty and Thirty-two respectively we could finally be bought out into the open.
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