“Old age is like a plane flying through a storm. Once you’re aboard, there’s nothing you can do.”
Golda Meir
My father was the only boy in a family of girls, smack-dab in the middle, with two older sisters and two who were younger.
I grew up surrounded by these aunties, taking for granted the warmth of their presence as the young usually do. Like everyone else raising families and supporting them, Dad and his sisters were busy, but when children left home, and careers wound down, a wonderful thing happened. They moved from being siblings who got along well and turned into fast friends.
Three lived in one area, and two were a couple of hours away, so regular get-togethers were doable. They seemed to lunch often, and those of you who knew them will not be surprised by this.
I suspect they were on a first-name basis with the wait staff at Anna Mae’s Restaurant.
