Wednesday, May 8, 2019
She and Andy were so kind to me that I used to wish they were my parents. Andy let me hang around the garage, pump gas, and get in the way from when I was 11. He taught me to drive when I was 12. I loved the smell of gas and engines. They would take me to the lake waterskiing with the family. Julia would be unfailingly kind and warm.
Fifty years later, on a whim, unannounced and without a map or SatNav, I pulled off Saratoga Road at 604. The drapes were open, the lights were on, and there she and Andy were, sitting in the living room.
I was saddened to learn Andy was unable to tell some of the old stories, so Julia and I swapped them for several hours.
