“You can’t do that to a seventy-year-old,” Rita says today, relishing the memory. “I almost went into cardiac arrest.” Standing in the crowd, clapping and laughing, were the hello-family—Anna, Kyle, Sophia, and Alice (the girls made paintings as gifts); Myron’s son and daughter and their children (who are gradually becoming another set of honorary grandchildren); and a few students from the college class she’s teaching (one student told her, “If you want to have an interesting conversation, talk to an old person”).
