…fruit flies like a banana.” -G. Marx
Friday evening I attended a wake/service for a friend from my teenage years, a local musician who was in our garage band back in the day. I looked around at the attendees- it was amazing how old those folks got.
Anyway, during the service, as people were giving testimonials about their relationship with the deceased, a woman got up, identified herself, & had her say. After the service was complete, I went over to her & said hello- she recognized me.
After some hugs, we talked for about half an hour about our lives, families, & the trials of life.
As I got up to leave, I realized that we had been holding hands for all that time.
Just like we did in 1967.
Note to self:
2 hours ago