Myself, Connie, and my sister.
Myself, Connie, and my sister.

Today I attended the funeral of the lovely woman in the middle of this photograph. She was my late grandmother’s best friend. A feisty woman, I was able to appreciate her more as I grew older, and especially after my grandmother passed. You never knew what she was going to say, but you knew you had the best seat in the house if you were next to her. I feel like there was a lot I could have learned from her, and my grandmother, if I had only known how to ask. But I suppose the sorts of life knowledge that I know my grandmother and her friend possessed couldn’t exactly have been transferred that easily. And maybe when I had them around I wasn’t quite ready for their wisdom anyway.

I wish I had a picture of Connie in her youth, because from the photos I saw today, she was a knockout. Dolled up in the style of the 1940s, she was a sight to behold. I didn’t realize what an interesting past she seemed to have, being born a mere 1.25 pounds premature, and going on to become a singer in minstrel shows, even with Al Gentile.

Connie and her husband Stanley were just two months shy of their 60th anniversary.

As my mom said today, there must be some plan behind the order of passing here. My grandmother and her best friend need some time to catch up before their husbands join them.

Erin and Connie


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