Thursday, August 26, 2010


If I should live to be one hundred ten, die and be born again, I will never meet someone as kind and caring, as sharing as Maria. She has been a friend to me and, for this, I thank her gratefully.

I will never forget the day we met. It was on the Fourth of July when fireworks lit up the Indianapolis sky. My son had invited me to dinner and when I met Maria, and after we chatted a while, I knew my son had picked a winner.

Maria is the kind you seldom find, someone who charms, who warms the heart, whose first smile becomes the start of many pleasant memories.

I knew from day one Maria was someone on whom I could depend, who would always be a friend to me and members of my family.

I was attracted by her grace, her smiling face, her laughter and sincerity, the way she intently listened when I and others had something to say, a point we wanted to stress. How she wouldn’t reply with just a “no” or ”yes.” She had a question, a suggestion to make, a position to take, an insight that would shed new light on any situation discussed in a conversation. To this day we relate in a very special way.

Although I will soon be eighty eight and she is much younger, we agree or disagree, have varying points of view, but always end up friends good and true. That’s how it should always be between young and old.

After all, isn’t age just a mere technicality?


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