I never knew my in-laws. They both passed away before I met
and married their son. I think I would have liked them, and I know they would have
adored their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I’m more than a little impressed
that they had the nerve to start a family when they did, though both were well past
the age when most people marry and have kids, and neither of them had any
experience with a happy family life. I knew my mother-in-law played the organ,
but that fact didn’t mean much to me until last week, when we ran across some
of her old sheet music while cleaning the garage. She used to play More, I
Wonder Who’s Kissing Her Now, In the Good Old Summertime, Far Away Places, When
Irish Eyes are Smiling, and many more of the same songs I’ve played in nursing
homes and at the hospital.
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